Deicide
by the aspiring cynic
Summary: AU: An alternate dimension traveler. One misguided vigilante. The fallen have risen once again to rid this world of Kira. The world rests in the fumbling hands of an alcoholic and the greatest detective the world has ever seen. Eventual LightxOC LxOC
1. Vigilantes and Vodka

And on the eighth day God said, "Okay, Murphy, you're in charge!"

-Author Unknown

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Vigilantes and Vodka<strong>

The blaring noise of the garbage truck outside tells me I'm alive for the first time in days. The room itself is cloaked in darkness, my only preference and comfort. Somehow I find the will to pull myself off the bed and into a sitting position. Empty cans litter the floor along with miscellaneous bills and mementos from another life. The only possible source of light is from the naked light bulb hanging precariously from a wire.

You can call me Wynter.

You need to know that I'm not your average human being.

But then again, who really is?

We all live this lie; we live the lie of being happy.

When in reality the world we reside in is a living hell.

But perhaps you're an optimist.

Hopefully, you are.

Maybe you've realized that in the end we're simply the footnote.

We're a passing fleck in the passage of time.

But let's hope for the best, right?

Because lying to ourselves is the only option left.

I'm not going to start out with some crap about how I was "different" from everyone else and how my parents didn't understand me. Because I'm sure that during some point of your life, someone's lied to you and told you were special. If not, well, then you _really_ are one of the special ones.

I went through the motions of living just like everyone else. You know, the whole house with the white picket fence and hamburgers grilling in the backyard deal? My parents were, well, parents. They disciplined and they probably loved me as well; in that weird sort of way that parental love is explained. They acknowledged that I was flesh and blood. And I suppose, for a while, I lived a normal enough life. I had no siblings; the only blood-relative that lived near us was my Great-Aunt Hilda, but she still thought the Reds were threatening to nuke us or something. Unfortunately, she was the only person I was ever able to relate to. She understood this _paranoia_ and probably so many other things. The funny thing is that she's still out there somewhere, still alive and raving mad about the Commies.

I guess the only atypical aspect about my personality was that I had a bit of strawberry fetish. But everyone had their quirks and mine wasn't very weird.

There was also the whole ability to jump into alternate dimensions.

It was innocent enough; during my dreams I was able to puncture the folds of reality and jump into a world only slightly different than the one I usually resided in. At first there really wasn't much of a difference: my appearance was a little different, our house was a different color, we lived in a different neighborhood et cetera. But the older I aged, the more conspicuous the differences became. For example, in one universe I was a guy and in another I actually had a younger sibling. I soon realized that these dimensions were all possible paths for my reality. That in fact, these dimensions could determine the future of the very dimension I resided.

I was smart enough to convince myself that I was simply dreaming. I couldn't really jump into alternate dimensions. That I was only dreaming. And for awhile, the lie held up. It wasn't until college that everything backfired.

The best way to tell a story is from every angle, every perspective.

So that's where I'll start.

* * *

><p>"Today showcases a historic event in mankind, the very first. . ."<p>

"Ambassadors from around the world including, our very own Mr. President, have come to attend what will later be remembered as the greatest philanthropic feat man has ever achieved. . ."

The sounds of the reporters were drowned out by the whispers in the class and the blatant chirping of texting. Making another run to the lounge for donuts, the teacher was conspicuously absent and had left the class in a state of organized anarchy.

No one really cared about the educational footage running in the background. No one seemed the feel the imminent danger. No one noticed the birth of a new threat, the rise of a new god.

Lea Reynolds slouched at her desk with her notebook opened to a blank page waiting to be doodled upon. She briefly glanced up at the clock and smiled maliciously. The day was almost over and the compulsory prison that all parents sent their children to would begin its mandated three month break. She was eighteen; her innocence long gone. But this summer would be different; her parents would be away on some dream vacation to Fiji leaving the house in her care, just like always.

Lea's gaze drifted to the open window from which warmth poured into the classroom and swept a certain type of medicated drowsiness inside. She could feel her eyes drooping ever so slightly. It was then that she felt the brief stillness in the air. For a moment, she could not hear the voices of her peers nor feel the rays of the sun. She focused on the open window. The soft ticking of the clock had even stilled and muffled to the point it was virtually silent. The moment after she saw the notebook slowly drift from the top of the window and hurtle towards the ground and out of sight, the stillness vanished. The cacophony of voices rang in her eardrums and time continued as though nothing had happened. The numbness she had felt lingered. She had this sick feeling in her stomach and was unsure what to make of it. She quickly glanced around to check if anyone else had observed this . . . event. But found herself to be the sole witness.

"Are you even listening Lea?" The shout of her friend disrupted her thoughts.

"Um, yeah." She muttered emptily as she wondered where this feeling was coming from. She quickly shrugged it off; some idiot had probably thrown their notebook from the roof.

But she felt her curiosity whir into overdrive. The roof was locked; there was no plausible way a student could reach the roof. So where did that notebook come from? There certainly wasn't another level above the classroom.

"I swear you're, like, totally out of it today." Ashley was her name. Ashley Abel, the loudmouthed blonde with an attitude problem. She obnoxiously flipped her straight hair over her shoulder before popping her bubblegum loudly.

"Oh shut up, Ash. I'm sure Lea's just sick of hearing your yapping." Drawled a brunette Lea had known since the fifth grade. Jenna was notorious for being able to speak her mind without paying heed to the repercussions.

"No she's not! I'm, like, the most interesting person that I, like, know." Ashley's tone sounded whiny and a childish pout adorned her face. Lea fought the urge to roll her eyes; Ashley was such a five-year-old. How did she expect to graduate if she couldn't make a valid argument without the word "like"?

"Whatever. Hey, Lea. Guess what I heard! Cole's going to ask you out after school today." Jenna practically beamed at Ashley's heartbroken face. It was well known that Ashley had been a fan of Cole, the all-American quarterback and future Homecoming King, just like so many other wenches at the school.

"Oh, really?" Lea tried not to let the apathy emanate from every fiber of her being. Although she had many suitors, she really wasn't interested in anyone at this school. There was no one that could possibly match her level of intelligence, especially not a jock from the football team.

"Yep. Everyone knows how cute a couple you two will make. I mean, c'mon, head cheerleader plus quarterback equals high school dream couple!" She waved her arms around for emphasis.

Ashley was now silent as she moped in her chair. Jenna wasn't exactly lying about Cole and Lea being well matched. It was the oldest cliché in the book. They would easily be that sought all-American couple. But there was only one problem. Lea shared power with no one. Her position for president of the homecoming committee as well as student council was set in stone. She was not willing to forfeit some of her independence to a dimwit like Cole.

"So are you going to say yes?" Lea wasn't surprised to see Ashley lean forward; her despair apparently forgotten at the prospect of juicy gossip. Even Jenna leaned forward with obvious anticipation and Lea smiled at them. They were much too predictable, but then again who on this planet wasn't?

The shrill ring of the bell signaled their dismissal and Lea leapt out of her seat with new vigor. The halls were crowded with people reminiscing about inane things and she took her time mingling. After all, she still had to keep up her public façade. Lea found herself walking through the grass and towards her car as her foot hit something in the grass. She recognized the notebook rather dimly but when she bent over to pick it up, Lea heard a deep voice call her name.

It was Cole smiling his million watt grin that made girls like Ashley fall head over heels for him. The notebook was forgotten as Lea quickly shoved it into her bag.

"Hey Cole." Lea said pulling on her usual bubbly mask.

"Hey, there's a party at Frankie's house next Friday. It'll be epic. Want to come with me?" He asked rather sheepishly. Lea felt herself scoff with contempt. Was this his attempt at asking her, Lea Reynolds (the most sought after girl in the entire school), out?

Her smile didn't droop for a millisecond. She began to curl her golden locks around her finger. She put on this fake pondering look with her large, green eyes open wide. As if she really had to take that long to think about his offer.

"Totally! I'd love to." _Not._

"Um, so I'll pick you up at like seven?"

"Yeah, sure." _As if._

"Uh, great. See ya later Lea!" With another flash of his moronic grin, Cole was long gone.

Lea had not fallen for Cole's nonexistent charm. In fact, the only reason why Lea had taken up his offer was because of his transparent personality and petulant mindset. Cole was someone she could easily manipulate. Being a celebrity couple at school would only further solidify her rule of the roost. Going to Frankie's party (an event that was probably bucket list worthy) had been the other major factor. Lea continued her walk to the car grinning ear to ear with the notebook stashed in her bag and had yet to notice the words "Death Note" written upon its cover.

* * *

><p>Lea arrived to the empty shell she called home. Her parents were frequently absent from her life, whether it be business trips or simply excuses. It hadn't always been this way, she reluctantly reassured herself from time to time. Gradually, the usual pang of emptiness was replaced with nothingness. Presently, Lea enjoyed the vacant house for she was her own master without any repercussions. She set her own curfew, her own rules; it was essentially as though she lived by herself. She placed her bag neatly onto the kitchen counter before heading upstairs. The house itself was rather large and similar to the many others around it. Lea had lived in that particular house for as long as she could remember.<p>

She spent the next two hours deciding what to wear to Frankie's party. Although the party was nearly in a week, Lea was known for planning every tiny detail ahead of time. She wanted everything to be absolutely perfect. At nearly every outfit she made a grunt of disdain and contempt.

_Not hot enough. _

_It looks like something Ashley would wear. _

_Definitely not a "10". _

At around 7, her stomach gave a weak grumble and she frowned at herself in the mirror. She contemplated skipping a meal (she definitely didn't want to look like Jenna) but she also knew that if she developed an eating disorder she'd look like a rat (like Ashley) and before she knew it, her feet led her right to the kitchen. Her stomach was screaming for something unhealthy, something that she would regret eating. She stopped her urge because then she'll get bloated and everyone would be talking about _that_ instead of how hot she looked. She settled for rabbit food and began to chew somberly. Lea had to admit that eating alone was quiet, not that she minded. Nope, not at all.

As she sat in deafening silence, she jumped when she heard a loud slam stab the numbing stillness. Sprinting towards the nearest phone, it was then that she realized an unfamiliar notebook on the ground. Glancing over to the counter and seeing her bag nearly falling off onto the kitchen floor, she quickly deduced that she must have thrown it onto the counter rather clumsily and thus gravity played its part in causing the book to fall. She flipped over the notebook to its front cover and the words "Death Note" stared back at her. She raised the cover and studied the interior. The words "How to Use" gleamed innocently enough.

**The human whose name is written in this note shall die.**

She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the quirky little notebook_._ It was original, she gave it that much. She flipped through the pages and found that they were relatively empty. Lea couldn't help but scoff, she had obviously picked up some loser's notebook. It was probably a gimmick, something to laugh about. Or it belonged to some sick, demented individual with nothing better to do in their spare time but to "pretend" to kill people. She tossed it onto the couch before grabbing the remote and began watching CSI™ or some other detective/forensic drama. But throughout the entire show, she found herself glancing over at the notebook which was still sitting pretty on the edge of the sofa.

It was silly. A notebook couldn't really kill anyone.

She flipped to the news and words of yet another act of cruelty by humanity was highlighted for all to see. _Rape, murder, lies, deceit, betrayal. If there really is a God, why does he allow his children to fall like this? How could he allow society to deteriorate to this extent? Why does he allow a world like this to exist?_

She stole another glance at the notebook.

_Wasn't there a movie or something that went like this? A young, vigilante thirsting for an uncorrupted world and the justice that humanity had long cast away._

"Word has been sent that the dictator has now ordered the military to turn their weapons onto civilians. Men, women, and children have been killed by the thousands for protesting the cruel conditions of their government. . ." The reporter's monologue continued as the screen flashed a picture of the terrible man.

It was unbelievable, really, that one man could be the cause of thousands of innocent deaths. It was simply inconceivable that in this day and age, acts of cruelty still existed. But really, what could Lea do? She was just another person on this planet and she certainly wasn't God.

Begrudgingly, she found herself picking up the notebook and opening to the first page. She glanced over the "How to Use" and found herself staring at the blank page. A name and a face was all she needed to stop thousands from suffering from one man's doing.

She slammed the notebook shut.

She couldn't possibly be really contemplating it! She was merely an ignorant high school girl; she wasn't supposed to care about the condition of the world. The only thing that she should be thinking about was Frankie's party.

She paused and looked down at the notebook in her lap. It wasn't as if the thing actually worked, it was just a gag after all. She stole a glance at the TV and witnessed the burnt corpses of thousands as well as the one man that was responsible. For a moment, she began musing to herself of all the things she would be able to do if this notebook was indeed real.

For one, she'd be able to stop this terrible man from wrecking havoc on the world.

_I can't believe that I'm even thinking about this_.

She dashed over to the kitchen and began searching for a pen in one of the drawers. She sat back down in front of the television and brought her pen down onto the page. The photographs of miserable children and angry protests fueled her decision. Hesitantly, she penned the man's name and waited.

"And we now will return to Todd live in the middle of entire thing. . . "

Lea clenched her fists in anticipation but quickly loosened her grip. The notebook couldn't possibly be real, so why was she getting so worked up? It was nothing more than a mere gimmick.

"Thank you Ashley. Well things may have quieted down slightly but the memories of earlier today still—Wait! There seems to be some kind of commotion near the tanks. The people—the people are shouting. It seems as though the dictator is dead. I repeat the dictator is dead! The soldiers are throwing down their weapons. . ."

Lea clenched the pen tightly in her left hand in shock. _No way! He can't really be dead . . . It must be some sort of coincidence. _

Yes, that had to be it. The man had been elderly; it shouldn't be that surprising that he died from a heart attack.

Yes, this was all just some twisted coincidence.

"Wow, seems like you've used it already."

Lea muffled a startled cry as she looked toward her left and saw a man standing there leaning against the wall rather comfortably. His pastel skin was glowing and his auburn hair was perfectly styled without so much as a strand out of place. He was taller than her and could definitely overpower her in a physical fight.

"Who . . . Who are you!" Her question had been mangled by her terror.

"I assure you that I mean you no harm, so please calm down. Surely you've read the 'How to Use'?" The stranger's tone was rather condescending, she numbly registered. He was young, a little older than she was but young nonetheless. And she had to admit, he was quite the Adonis. His accent was light but definitely foreign, something Asian perhaps? Lea just couldn't seem to put her finger on it since her heart had fainted from the overwhelming fear.

"How did you get in?" She had always been cautious since her parents had a habit of leaving her home alone. Every door would be routinely locked and every window shut, so how on Earth had this man entered without so much as a sound? Lea tightened her grip on her terror and stole a glance at her cell phone lying a few feet away. If only she could reach it . . .

"Where else did you think the Death Note came from?" His voice was like poisoned honey, delightfully sweet yet toxic just the same.

Her eyes widened at the realization, "You're the god of death the notebook was talking about? But. . ."

He smiled at her, his canines gleamed at her. "Bravo, it seems that you're not as stupid as the last one."

"Stupid?" Lea was not going to tolerate some random guy breaking into her house and then accusing her of being an idiot. She prided herself on having far better grades than the rest of the numbskulls at her school. It didn't matter how hot this guy was; there was no way in hell that he was allowed to insult her!

"I have a proposition for you. Join me and we can rule this world together. We can cleanse this Earth of all the filth that has come to inhabit it." His voice was increasingly persuasive and it really helped that he was easy on the eyes.

"Join you?" Lea spat at him, "I don't share with anyone."

His eyes gleamed at her, "It seems that you and I have similar traits. We are both the cream of the crop. We both realize that this world, this god-forsaken world, needs a savior. We both realize that this world needs judgment. Become my queen, and we can rule an honest world together."

"You're insane," Lea spat, "What makes you think that I'll believe that crap?"

His smile gave her ice-cold chills and a panicked stomach, "How . . . benevolent of you. I admire your integrity but surely you know of the decay our society has deteriorated into. Do you not wish to fix this world? Imagine what you could do with this power! You've saved thousands with only one life, was it not worth it?"

_Killing is wrong._

**He deserved to die.**

_Killing is bad._

**I saved thousands.**

She became the savior for these people. She could become the savior for everyone.

**How much is the life of one bad person worth?**

_Killing is wrong._

**Surely they all deserve to die.**

**The world would be better off without them anyways.**

The more she thought about it, the more logical it seemed. The world didn't need the deadweight, it was only worsening the situation for everyone else.

Poverty, hunger, riots, corruption, wars. She had the potential to stop them all.

There was no reason for good people to suffer. There was no reason for God to allow his people to suffer.

She could become God.

She could single-handedly fix humanity. Her body shook in anticipation. She was incorruptible unlike those politicians and world leaders. She'd bide her time and keep her identity a secret as she quietly corrected mankind.

"I don't trust you," Lea began, "but I agree with you. This world needs someone. Idiots have been running this planet for far too long."

"So you'll join me?"

"On one condition, we rule side by side. An equal partnership. And I bow down to no one." Her filled with anticipation as she imagined the power, the glory she would gain as a god. She would become someone significant in this terrible world. Her insides twisted in disagreement but she slammed a lid onto her emotions. It would be wonderful, she reassured herself.

He smirked at her, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good. By the way, what's your name?"

"You may call me Kira." The crimson in his eyes made her insides squirm even more.

* * *

><p>A blood curdling scream was unleashed into the night. For a moment, all was still. It was as though time itself had stopped for a brief second until it continued monotonously. Wynter sat up in bed trying to shake off the chills from her dream. That one had been the worst one yet; she had been transported into a post-apocalyptic Earth in which people had decayed to their lowest, most primal form. They had truly become animals.<p>

She got up, her legs spotted with gooseflesh as she shuffled toward the fridge. The light flashed in her eyes momentarily blinding her as she fumbled through its contents before deciding on a bottle of wine. She meandered towards the makeshift sofa (that was also her bed) before uncorking the bottle and taking a full swig. She scowled at herself wishing that she had chosen the vodka instead. She picked up the phone and found herself dialing without really thinking about it.

"What! What is it?" Barked an elderly voice at the other line.

"It's just me, Aunt Hilda."

"What? Have the Germans finally broken through our defenses? Those Nazi bastards . . ."

"No, no. It's just that I had another dream."

Great-Aunt Hilda softly asked, "How bad was it this time?"

"Nothing like a post-apocalyptic world to make you thankful for a bottle of wine."

"Ah, so it's that one again is it?" She muttered to herself briefly and Wynter could hear a clang in the background.

"What was that?" Wynter narrowed her eyes in momentary concern.

"It's just damn Rufus again! Get back here you . . ." Rufus was her ancient cat that was descended from saber-toothed tigers.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Aunt Hilda." Wynter mumbled into the phone.

"Nah, you've probably just not had enough alcohol yet. Let it kick in and call me later." Her deep voice roared in reassurance.

"Are we still on for tomorrow?" Wynter had promised her that she would help Great-Aunt Hilda go buy her very first computer.

"Sure as hell kid. Get some sleep."

A click rang through Wynter's ears when she ended the call. Wynter knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep after this so she stumbled towards the remote and turned on her T.V. She normally didn't bother with television; she preferred getting her news from the internet.

"The people are rejoicing that finally their oppressive dictator of nearly thirty years has died. Because of his death, the people are finally free. . ."

Wynter froze as the name of the dictator was flashed on the screen, Idi Amin Dada. His dark image twisted in her sight as she clutched herself tightly. That name. That _name_ had been in her dream. She was fully aware that Idi Amin Dada was an actual dictator in her own world but she merely played it off as her subconscious reciting random facts that she knew. And now he was dead. His end wouldn't have bothered her so much if she hadn't just observed his very death before witnessing the entire world spiral into chaos within decades. That world in which she witnessed man in his most carnal of states had started all with the death of this man!

It had to be mere coincidence of course. Her dreams were often nonsense; sometimes a few decades compacted into one night or merely a few minutes stretched out into centuries.

She slumped back into bed after shutting the television off. For hours it seemed she lied on her back and stared at the dingy cracked eggshell-white ceiling. The sleep she thirsted for evaded her and every time she shut her eyelids all she could see was that world.

It was just coincidence.

But if that was true, why did it feel like WWIII in her stomach?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, this will be an eventual LxOC and LightxOC. I wish to focus more on the plot than the pairings. My version of fluff will probably be warped to what you expect seeing as I wish to flesh out the psychological undertones of Death Note. So this means lies and deceit rather than blind love. But fear not my fellow romantic saps! **

_Revised as of 9/18/2011_


	2. Make My Day

Reality is a hallucination brought on by lack of alcohol.

-Author Unknown

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: Make My Day<strong>

The loud knock on her door felt like a cascade of bullets aimed directly at Wynter's eardrums. A guttural sound, that sounded much like a kitten having its own entrails ripped out, viciously escaped her throat. She nearly fell off the bed but happened to land on her feet just in time. She swayed as she rose to her feet and stumbled over towards the door, heavily cursing hangovers. Wynter attempted to look through the peep hole of her door but the image was hazily distorted and the urge to vomit intensified. Slowly and deliberately, she opened the multiple locks on her door and tugged it open.

"What's it you want?" She meant to say but her words were horribly slurred and came out as a scratchy gurgle.

"Ms. Wynter, I presume?" Wynter rubbed her eyes and was only able to open them a fraction wider. It was obviously a man speaking, and one that didn't know her well since he had bothered with the formalities. He had tangled dark hair and large bags under his eyes. Although he slouched, the man was still a couple inches taller than her. His overall creepiness, on a scale of one to ten, was definitely a seventeen. His pasty skin screamed hermit and it didn't help that his voice clearly lacked any emotion whatsoever. Despite his repulsive appearance, Wynter couldn't help but to gape at him.

"Who the hell's that? Listen, buddy, I think you got the wrong door. There's a hooker a couple doors down that would love some company. And I'm starting to think that you would too." She tried to slam the door in his face but was met with rigid resistance.

A click that sounded eerily like the safety being turned off a gun diverted her attention to the man's far left. It was a transvestite wearing gaudy leather and blonde hair waving around an awfully real gun. Wynter instinctively froze at the sight of the gun. She, like many other civilians, had never actually seen one in person before and now she had the esteemed privilege of having it trained directly at one of her many important arteries.

"Listen here, _girlie_. That crap may work on your average IRS but not us. So if you know what's good for ya, you'd open this door before I blow your fucking brains all the way to Timbuktu." The he-she spat at her.

_Girlie? Well I certainly haven't heard that one before. _

Wynter squinted her eyes trying to focus her vision but felt a sudden surge of dizziness. Hastily, she covered her mouth with her hands before rapidly retreating to her bathroom and kneeling before the great white basin. The sounds of her retching probably could be heard from the surrounding floors.

After vomiting, she regained some of her focus and roughly wiped her mouth with a spare towel before returning to the door. Unfortunately, they were still there; now that she was less dazed, she noticed two other men hanging in the background rather silently.

Without a second thought, the he-she trained his gun directly at her temple. Wynter felt a deep shiver shake her body. Something told her that this guy/gal wasn't kidding. No one in the group even blinked at the fact she had a gun aimed at her head. The white albino and Mr. Creeper certainly didn't. The guy with the goggles didn't bother to look up from his video game.

"Mello, it would not be the most intelligent action to kill Ms. Wynter now." A short albino murmured as he twirled his stark white hair around his fingers.

"Shut the fuck up, Near!" Suddenly, the gun was no longer pointed towards Wynter but instead at the albino named Near.

"Mel, ya got to calm down." A goggle wearing redhead muttered as he mindlessly jabbed at his Nintendo DS.

"I don't give a . . ." Mello began.

During this quarrel, Wynter took the opportunity to try to slink back into the safety of her apartment and probably drown her latest hallucination in alcohol. She was thwarted when a strong, pale arm clenched her own.

"Ms. Wynter, it would be best if you invited us into your abode." It was the man who had knocked in the first place. His monotone was unwavering and his eyes seemed to be able to see right through her. Wynter suppressed a shiver for the second time before dragging her feet and unwelcome guests inside. It wasn't until the door was securely locked behind all four of the intruders that Mr. Creeper let go of her arm. Wynter eyed the bathroom while hoping that she would have the opportunity to escape. Her one-room apartment felt ridiculously claustrophobic as she frantically plotted an escape route. These men obviously weren't with the government otherwise they wouldn't be waving guns around.

"Thank you Ms. Wynter for . . ."

"First off, cut the bull. I let you all in so you'd better be answering all of my questions. Who the hell are you and why do you look so damn familiar?" Wynter struggled to keep her calm as she glared at the one she had unceremoniously dubbed Mr. Creeper.

"Familiar?" Echoed Mr. Creeper as his thumb shot towards his mouth and began to thoughtfully nibble on it.

"I'm asking the questions!" Wynter demanded.

Mr. Creeper released a sigh before continuing his dreary monotone, "You may call me Ryuuzaki. Mello is the one waving the gun around, Near is currently his target and that is Matt."

"Yo," Matt replied not looking up from his game. Wynter looked from Mello to Near, the former was shouting profanities while the latter looked indifferent to his actions.

"Why are you all here?" Wynter grunted rather impatiently.

"Ms. Wynter, do you recall Idi Amin Dada and the circumstances surrounding his death?" Ryuuzaki softly questioned.

"Dada? Isn't he that dictator that died yesterday? Something about a heart attack, right?" Wynter uttered rather reluctantly.

"And have you watched today's current news?" He droned as Wynter watched his feet fidget. Did this guy have a nervous tick or something?

"Nah, I was too busy puking my kidneys out if you haven't noticed." Wynter replied nonchalantly.

"At exactly 9:00 A.M. more than two dozen criminals have all died at the same time." Mr. Creeper–err–Ryuuzaki slowly said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Wynter scowled as she folded her arms in front of her chest.

"All of them suffered the same fate as Idi Amin Dada." He probably would have rolled his eyes at her but they might have popped out of his head and literally rolled around on her apartment floor.

"Wait! You mean they all died of heart attacks?" Wynter nearly squawked as her eyes widened before failing to gain her composure.

"No shit, Sherlock." Wynter narrowed her eyes at Mello. The latter of which had not killed the albino as she had previously predicted.

"Look, what does the death of some foreign dictator have anything to do with me?" Wynter stared at her toes. Maybe, just maybe, if this really was a dream and not a nightmare, these lunatics would leave her alone with her vodka.

"I am afraid, Ms. Wynter, that it would go against both our best interests if we left the matter as it is." Mr. Creeper replied as he stared at her face waiting for her reaction.

Wynter had never really believed in God prior to this moment, but currently she was frantically screaming her prayers to the heaven. Hoping, just hoping, that this really was a hallucination and she could go back to the way things are. Maybe she had fell and hit her head on something when she was wasted. Maybe Great-Aunt Hilda accidentally hit her with the army tank she called a car. Yes, that was it, she had probably lost consciousness and now she was all knocked up on laughing gas. Wynter began smiling to herself again feeling much more in control now that she had established that this was merely a drug-induced dream.

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to do what exactly?" Wynter asked at a much more confident tone.

"Ms. Wynter, the four of us: Near, Mello, Matt and myself are established private investigators recognized for their distinct intelligence and analytical skills. However, we have reason to believe that this case is involved with the supernatural." His monotone droned.

"Supernatural?" Wynter echoed feeling confused yet again.

"Yes, that is where your expertise is crucial. With your experience and sensitivity to the other worldly, we will be able to bring this blasphemous serial killer to justice."

It took longer than normal for Wynter's mind to comprehend what Mr. Creeper had said. It wasn't only due to the fact that her eyes kept wandering to the gun in Mello's hand. Nor was it Mr. Creeper's gaze; although, that alone could probably make seasoned criminals shit themselves. And it probably wasn't the hypnotic beeping of Matt's Nintendo DS even if it was extremely distracting. She was simply dumbfounded that she of all people would be actually be asked for this job. Wynter had never been anything special, sure she had reoccurring nightmares but everyone had a little quirk. She wasn't some psychic or something. She was merely that girl that lived in 13B with only a crazy great-aunt as a relative. This was something too far-fetched even for an alcohol-induced hallucination.

"But I'm not a psychic!" She hastily blurted out while glancing at the door. She needed a way out and **fast**. Wynter was certain that she had no clairvoyant abilities whatsoever, and her dreams were just dreams not premonitions. She didn't believe in ghosts or anything else of the supernatural; she didn't want to join their little paranormal crew.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Wynter, we were informed quite the opposite." The white albino, Near, had softly interjected.

"Well, who's the idiot that told you?" Wynter demanded. _When I get a hold of this guy, I'm going to . . ._

"Confidential. But we are certain that our sources are never wrong."

"Listen here, Mr. Creeper—er—Ryuuzaki. Look, I'm awfully flattered that you've invited me to be part of this, well, crazy train. But truth be told, my doctor specifically warned me to stay away from crazed creepers such as yourself so if you'll excuse me, I'll be hyperventilating in the corner. Not to mention that I clearly lack psychic abilities." Wynter then proceeded to inch towards the bathroom but her path was immediately blocked by the gun wielding Mello looking especially sadistic.

"What do you want me to do, Ryuuzaki? Perhaps, a few bullets to the limbs will teach her that this isn't some kind of joke." Wynter froze at Mello's snarling face feeling paralyzed. The self-preservation instinct in her brain sobbed in a corner as her subconscious silently prayed that she'd see the end of this encounter in one piece.

"That will not be necessary, Mello. I am sure that Ms. Wynter is rational and will come to the conclusion that she has little choice in the matter."

Wynter choked on his words. She had thought that Mr. Creeper of all people would have at least acted like the gentleman he spoke like and given her a choice. Her chance of escape was dashed as Mello was poised to shoot. Wynter suppressed a whimper; she was going to die. She was going to be killed by some leather-wearing tranny. Then again, there was the alternate option. She could go along with this entire charade.

The more Wynter thought about, the more logical the possibility seemed. If she merely pretended to do as they wished, she would then have the opportunity to attract the attention of the authorities and this entire crazy train would be locked up in the loony bin. The plan soothed her nerves; she would only have to deal with this for a little while before everything would return to normal. She could wait until she finally was able to contact the proper authorities of the insane plot these four were planning. She would just have to put her best foot first and tough it out. After all, playing the victim couldn't be that hard. She could survive and live to tell her Great-Aunt about it.

"I'll accept the offer but only on a few conditions." Wynter's paralyzed mouth stumbled through the beginning sounds but probably sounded much more confident than she felt.

"You don't have the power to negotiate, idiot." Mello's harsh words slashed at her. Wynter felt slightly deflated by his words but she hung on but she had to set some ground rules if she was going to see the end of this experience with minimal emotional trauma.

"Perhaps we can humor her. What is it that you wish, Ms. Wynter?" Ryuuzaki's soft monotone inquired. Wynter silently sighed in relief, thankful that at least one lunatic was going to answer her pleas.

"Alcohol."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me right. Alcohol. No less than the finest, my psychic abilities depend on it. ¿Capisci? I want full clemency should the law finally catch up with you lunatics. And another thing, my mojo gets all out of whack with having a gun pointed at me. Ain't good for the blood pressure." She gave a meaningful glance to Mello's gun which was now aimed at the base of her throat.

"And one more thing." She was able to keep her voice steady as she continued her ridiculous demands.

"Yes?" She felt a tug at her lips.

"I want a kickass nickname."

Wynter did not miss Mello's murderous glare nor the way he narrowed his eyes. In fact, she merely took it all in stride as she felt herself smirk.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**¿Capisci? I believe this is translated as 'Do you understand?' If you are a fluent Italian speaker (or learner for that matter) please correct me if I am wrong.**

** Wynter is indeed a very mysterious person. I purposely glossed over her past without truly answering whether her parents were alive or the extent of her abilities. On another note, how do you think of my portrayal of L, Matt, Mello and Near? Near and Matt were rather nonexistent in this chapter because I wasn't too sure of how to write them. I butchered Mello's character, probably for the sake of my own amusement. L's speaking pattern isn't the hardest but it is the most complicated. I feel as though I am decreasing his analytical skills by nearly 5% every time I write him.**

**If you want details for any of the characters, please review.**

**Special thanks to sakanascales876!**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011_**  
><strong>


	3. FFN: Friends For Never

I know a way to stay friends forever/

there's really nothing to it/

I tell you what to do/

and you do it.

-Shel Silverstein

Disclaimer: Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Well damn.

* * *

><p><strong> Chapter Three: FFN (Friends For Never)<strong>

Lea was on cloud nine, or maybe cloud ten. Whatever number it was, one thing was for sure, she felt immensely pleased with herself. She had never known that vigilante work was so mentally satisfying. Although there was the fact that she couldn't tell a soul of the favor she providing humanity (it was a thankless job really), working side by side with Kira was worth it. The guy was too hot for his own good.

And it certainly helped that he had a higher IQ than a piece of toast. The same could not be said of that buffoon Cole. He had called her a few hours earlier only to babble her ear off with useless nonsense. She did enjoy the fact that she saw something flash in Kira's eyes when Cole had called. She humored Cole and patiently listened to him prattle on about some football game. She would occasionally break her self-imposed silence and stroke his ego, which was probably the only reason he called in the first place. Needless to say, she was infinitely relieved when he finally hung up.

Lea glanced back at the living room and saw Kira calmly watching the news. He had asked her to kill all the criminals all at the same time for the past two days; the death toll had reached one hundred that morning. They had also been killing criminals from all corners of the world to obscure their location. A precaution that Lea thought was rather unnecessary but she nonetheless followed. Lea was certain that no other human knew of the existence of the Death Note and therefore could not hypothesize that the deaths were the fault of a single person.

"Hey, Kira." Kira's eyes looked up at her and Lea stifled her surprise as his crimson eyes faded into their usual brown. _Since when can he do that?_

"Yes, Lea?" Was his amiable reply.

"Were you ever human once, before becoming a god of death I mean?" Lea quickly blurted out. As soon as the words left her lips she instantly regretted it. She must sound like some inane moron.

"Long ago, I once was." He answered rather vaguely.

"What do you mean by once? Doesn't the Death Note say all humans go to Mu after death?" Lea asked for clarification.

"Indeed. But let me simply say that I was no ordinary human." A soft smile crept up onto his face giving Lea the chills.

"Do you remember your past life?" She continued as though it was some warped interview.

"Briefly. I remember a few things but usually after death all memories of past life are erased." He replied thoughtfully.

"Oh." Lea paused, as she was unsure of what to say next. This Kira was definitely something else entirely. She had never met a person before that had made her, Lea Reynolds, tongue-tied. It was normally the other way around but now she found herself nearly paralyzed before this certain god of death. Part of it she blamed on attraction, but there was something else to it.

Something about Kira made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She cast the blame on the fact he wasn't human but still, the way he was so indirectly condescending made her feel trapped. Yet at the same time, she revered his attention and thirsted it like a mad man wandering in the desert. She had told herself to be careful, especially since he could probably kill her at any time he pleased regardless of the fact they were partners.

She would have to be wary about this one.

At least until she finally discovered how to kill a god of death. Then of course she would have nothing to fear. For then, even the gods themselves couldn't touch her.

The familiar tone of the doorbell shattered her daydream. She yawned as she wandered toward the front door.

"Lea! Oh my god, I have nothing to wear and I was wondering if I could. . ."

It was Ashley, and thankfully she was the only intruder. It'd be easier to lie to Ashley than Jenna. Even though the latter wasn't among the brightest either, she wasn't nearly as slow as Ashley.

Inwardly scowling, Lea opened the door while welcoming the unwelcome house guest. She was infinitely patient as she listened to Ashley drone on about the party. She gently nudged her towards her own room and away from the living room and away from Kira. While Lea knew she wouldn't be able to hide him forever, she decided it would be simpler to keep that can of worms closed for as long as possible.

"So what do you think?" Lea snapped back to attention and scrutinized the girl in front of her. Ashley wasn't necessarily ugly per se, but she wasn't exactly a bombshell.

"Maybe, we should go to the mall and find you something there." Lea suggested, eager for the dim-wit to leave her closet alone.

"Hmm, you're right Lea, you're always right." Ashley beamed as she sprang for an excuse to go shopping. _So predictable._ Lea couldn't help but to grin right back, she was pleased that the she-idiot was finally leaving her personal sanctuary.

She was guiding the blonde down the stairs when abruptly Ashley decided to run into the kitchen for a quick glass of water. Lea followed her begrudgingly but stopped as the blonde halted suddenly. They both came face to face with none other than Kira.

_Shit. Well there goes hiding him. Ashley will probably tell everyone in a twenty mile radius within two minutes. Time for some damage control._

"Ashley don't you remember, Daniel, Dad's boss's son? He moved here recently, he was at that party, you know? My dad told me to show him around a bit."

"Oh, yeah! You mean that one? I totally remember." Immediately, the blonde's eyes lit up in pseudo-recognition and she began provocatively batting her eyelashes as she looked him up and down like a piece of meat. Lea suppressed a growl; Ashley didn't have the privilege to even look at him like that. She wasn't even worth his time.

"It's nice to meet you again, Ashley." Kira replied smoothly as he donned his friendly mask. _Why is he encouraging her? He doesn't like her, does he? He can't! Ashley isn't even that pretty._

"Hey! He should to the mall with us! It'd be a great way to show him around," Ashley smiled at her small genius. Lea could already see the gears working in the blonde's head. She was going to stake "Daniel" out, especially seeing as Lea was supposed already taken. For some reason, this pissed Lea off. She didn't want to be claimed by Cole, in fact, it would probably be much more beneficial to her if she showed up at the party arm in arm with "Daniel".

"I think that's a great idea, Ash. What do you think, Daniel?" Lea smiled.

"I would love the opportunity to tour the town with two wonderful ladies such as yourselves." Ashley's smile widened as her eyelashes looked as though they were about to take flight.

One glance at Ashley's love struck face convinced Lea.

She was going to the party with Daniel, even if it killed her.

* * *

><p>"A nickname?" Why was it that Mr. Creeper's voice never failed to make her idea sound infinitely more stupid than she had intended? Her request for a nickname had been incontestably denied by Mello (he had denied it on the grounds that it was foolish and a complete waste of time).<p>

"Yea, like an alias. I mean, c'mon, who would really name their kid _**Near**_? Offense intended, Near. How stupid do you think I am? It's obvious that you're not even using your real names!" Wynter placed her hands on her hips trying to look more intimidating but failed miserably.

"Ryuuzaki, are you kidding? Why the hell does she need an alias anyways?" Mello sounded his disapproving reply as his trigger finger twitched.

"I am surprised that you, Mello, did not realize the craftiness of this killer. It is obvious that he requires a name and a face to kill. Clearly, even Ms. Wynter was able to deduce _**that**_," Near droned in a near perfect imitation of Mr. Creeper.

_ Is Near Mr. Creeper's freakish midget clone or something? _

Mello tackled Near to the ground while attempting to strangle him. Wynter flinched at the act of violence. _How the hell is Near not dead yet?_

In Mello's defense, she wasn't even able to deduce why she could never find her keys in the morning. Near was simply overestimating her abilities, there was no way in hell that she had possibly known that the killer needed a name and a face to commit his crimes.

"What did you have in mind?" Wynter's brow furrowed, she honestly hadn't thought it out. She was still slightly stunned that Mr. Creeper was complying with her ridiculous demands in the first place.

"How about Zelda?" Matt chipped in without glancing up from his Nintendo DS.

"Like the video game?" Wynter winced.

"May I suggest, Lamia?" Mr. Creeper offered.

"You mean the Greek demon that abducted children and ate them?" Wynter's shriek of disbelief wasn't enough to distract Mello from strangling Near.

"Lorelei?" Wynter watched as Near's facial expression from indifference to boredom.

"The siren that sings sailors to their doom? Are you insane?" She wailed as she briefly wondered why Mr. Creeper kept giving her the names of evil ancient seductresses.

"Misty?"

"Pokémon, seriously Matt?"

"Perhaps, this discussion would be better suited for a different place. Near is turning into a rather worrying color." Mr. Creeper's remark diverted Wynter's attention to Near and Mello.

Wynter could distinctly feel her eyelid twitch. Minutes after damning her soul to Mr. Creeper and friends, she found herself jammed into the backseat of an expensive car along with the albino and Mr. Creeper himself. Manically driving the said car was none other than the gun wielding Mello who had probably obtained his license from the devil himself. Matt had called shotgun and the only sounds that could be heard in the vehicle were those from his video game.

Wynter had been regretting agreeing to this charade the second when Mello asked if he could muzzle her. Her condition of alcohol had not been met. And now she found herself pressed up uncomfortably against two people she had met only an hour ago without a clue of where she was headed. It certainly didn't help that Mr. Creeper had insisted on sitting in his own freakish way with his legs drawn up to his chin. The albino was playing silently with what seemed to be a robot and Wynter found it increasingly hard to breath in the small space.

She began to open her mouth to voice her disapproval but quickly shut it. Mello hadn't been in the most accommodating mood since he found that his supply of chocolate disappeared (she was lucky that he had given her the courtesy of throwing some spare clothes into a plastic bag before demanding she got into the car). Immediately, he began blaming Near and proceeded to create a ruckus in the parking lot. Thankfully, they had been able to flee the premises before any authorities arrived. Despite the situation, she found herself feeling drowsy. Wynter was notorious for falling asleep while driving, especially if she herself was not the driver. The overall silence (not accounting for Matt's beeping) was gently lulling her into an unconscious state.

The first time she felt her eyelids droop she harshly shook herself awake, and earned a curious look from Mr. Creeper and the albino. But by the third time, she stopped fighting and accepted defeat. Although she probably couldn't trust any of her _**companions**_, she needed all the sanity and rest she could get. And soon she soundlessly stumbled into slumber and ignored the nagging feeling that she was forgetting something terribly important.

Wynter was rudely awakened by ice-cold water. She lazily blinked awake and found herself staring face to face with Mr. Creeper. Swearing, she flinched away quickly but crashed into Near in her attempt to escape. Although she had many things against Mr. Creeper, it certainly wasn't his outward appearance that freaked her out so much as his stare.

His stare just wasn't as _**empty**_ as so many others. Wynter had no problem with blank stares; in fact, she loved them dearly. Those with blank stares often didn't have any ulterior motives (that is to say if they even had motives at all). But his very stare sent her very molecules into a rabid frenzy. His eyes were so deep unlike her shallow ones; it scared her to pieces just looking into them. They had an overwhelming amount of bitterness in them she had reluctantly noticed.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to awaken someone that went to sleep disgruntled? It's bad karma, I'll have you know." She spat as Near nearly pushed her out the car. Her eyes squinted as she adjusted to the complete darkness outside. They were outside of what appeared to be a shady diner/gas station.

"We shall rest here before departing." Wynter heard Mr. Creeper say aloud as their group split apart. Mello and Matt seemed to have evaporated into the sky as they were long gone, leaving her with Near and Mr. Creeper.

Wynter sluggishly dragged her feet as she followed the two into the run-down diner after taking a brief glance around. It appeared as though they were in the middle of nowhere. Across the street was a dry barren wasteland. Wynter blinked as she spotted a sign not far off in the distance.

**Welcome to Blood Valley, Nevada.**

** Population: 374**

Not only was she miles away from her apartment in Utah, but they even had the nerve to dump her here in some dilapidated diner without any alcohol. She sighed as she pulled her hoodie tighter as the chilly desert air sparked gooseflesh on her exposed skin.

The interior of the diner was much worse than its exterior. At first glance, the place simply looked neglected but inside it truly was a godforsaken place. The regulars were a shady bunch to say it lightly. Their pointed stares were daggers on Wynter's spine. There simply wasn't something right with these people. She seated herself next to Mr. Creeper and swiped her sweaty palms on her jeans while avoiding anyone's gaze. A bubble gum popping, beehive wearing lady in her fifties sauntered up with a notepad in hand and an inimical look on her face.

"An' what can I get ya, darling?" The waitress merely spoke with only one side of her mouth, a feat that Wynter was rather taken by. Her inconsistent accent was also quite something else and it effectively failed to put Wynter at ease.

Ryuuzaki, who had previously been thumbing through the dog-eared menu faithfully, did not hesitate before replying, "I wish to sample every dessert you have, Miss."

The woman gave him a rightfully curious look. Wynter herself also blinked a few times before shrugging it off as another one of Mr. Creeper's idiosyncrasies. The waitress then glanced at her and Wynter slightly flinched at the attention. Eyeballing the menu, Wynter made up her decision.

"Um, the strawberry sundae for me, please." She asked hesitantly.

"Anything for you, sweet cheeks?" Wynter nearly choked on her own spit and muffled her snort simultaneously. Imagine that, the fifty-year-old waitress hitting on the teenage albino who looked barely over thirteen. Near simply ignored her and continued playing with his robot.

"Um, nothing for him." Wynter blurted out for she was eager to rid themselves of her.

The waitress obnoxiously chomped on her gum and scribbled on her writing pad before swaggering towards the kitchen. Wynter found herself anxiously thrumming her fingers against the plastic tabletop unsure of what to do next.

"Uh, Ryuuzaki, can I ask you something?"

Ryuuzaki looked up at Wynter and nodded slightly. Wynter felt herself gulp as her eyes skimmed his pupils before settling on his collarbone.

"Where are we going exactly? I mean I know we're going to—you know—but are you sure we're going the right way? Like, how did you find this guy anyways?" Wynter, thankfully, had remembered to censor herself before giving anything away.

"The man we are looking for is not careless, that is certainly true. Even with the combined intelligence of my successors and myself, we were only able to narrow our hunt to three possible locations."

"Three!" Wynter shrieked, her yell caused other patrons to look briefly towards their table before paying them little heed.

"Ms. Wynter, may I ask you to calm yourself? There is a 62% that he is located within the United States. And according to my inferences, there is a 35% chance that he is currently within the boundaries of California." He nonchalantly plucked sugar packets from the small carousel on their table, ripping them open and depositing the contents in his mouth.

Wynter stifled her second wail of disbelief. _Are they for real? How can you possibly estimate something like this? And they call themselves detectives!_

"Just how accurate are these percentages? Did you just throw out random numbers to make yourself seem smarter?" Wynter questioned while gritting her teeth.

"Ms. Wynter, I am appalled. I assure you that we are professionals; only mere buffoons would assume such a thing." He answered as he ripped another sugar packet.

"Alright, alright, but one more thing. Do you even know what you're looking for? Are you even sure of how he . . . kills?" Wynter dropped her voice into a soft whisper.

"To be completely truthful, I am not quite sure as to how this man commits his crime but I do possess some knowledge of him." He looked rather thoughtful and Wynter glanced outside the window of their booth.

"Oh? How did you come across that?" She softly murmured.

"I met him once."

"What! But how?" Wynter choked in surprise.

"In a past life." After his reply, an awkward silence settled over the table. Wynter wasn't even sure how to answer that. Was she supposed to apologize that he died once or congratulate him on the resurrection?

"Here." Wynter looked up and it was the she-devil herself. The waitress had returned, armed with numerous desserts, looking pissed as hell. She practically slammed the confections onto the table and walked away without another glance; though, she did gift Near a flirty, yellowed smile which he pointedly ignored.

Wynter's strawberry sundae had the unfortunate color of a strawberry on chemotherapy. The strawberry sauce (undeniably synthetic) had the appearance of toxic sludge as it oozed upon the generic-brand vanilla ice cream.

Wynter couldn't help but stare in morbid amusement as Ryuuzaki attacked the sugary confections with much gusto. He inhaled each and every spoonful. But she couldn't help but smile; Mr. Creeper, for once, actually looked innocent and naïve.

Wynter proceeded to devour her own sundae but couldn't overcome the horrid feeling that she was forgetting something terribly important.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

** Daniel actually means "God is my Judge" in Hebrew. Apparently, from the same site I looked this up, it also mentioned that a man of this name is "idealistic and motivated to serve in order to uplift humanity as a whole." **

** The ages for the characters are as follows: **

** Ryuuzaki – 24**

** Wynter & Kira – 22**

** Mello & Matt - 19**

** Lea – 18**

** Near – 16**

** Vodka cookies to those who know what exactly Wynter is forgetting. **

** SmartGirl16: I was rather unsure of how to portray Mello actually. I thought to myself, do I want him flamboyantly insane or just your average crazy? I settled on flamboyant mostly because it's way more fun. Though, I suppose he is much tamer in this chapter. Thanks for reviewing and adding Deicide to your story alert list and favorites!**

** Sakanascales876: Thanks so much for the compliments. In fact, you're the reason why Wynter has so much face time in this chapter. In the beginning, I was planning on focusing solely on Lea and Kira but I couldn't resist. Thanks for adding me as your favorite author, I feel honored. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint!**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011_


	4. Rue Thy Sanity

A civilized society is one which tolerates eccentricity to the point of doubtful sanity.

-Robert Frost

Disclaimer: Possession is nine-tenths the law. Well damn.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Rue Thy Sanity<strong>

The ride to the mall had been filled with so much coquettishness from Ashley that Lea wanted to slam the car into the nearest object regardless of possible damage. If she was lucky, the entire vehicle would burst into flames and incinerate everything within a thirty-foot radius. And if she was truly fortunate, her ashes would not intermingle with that giggling idiot Ashley.

"So, like, how old are you?" Ashley asked Kira. She had rudely pulled Kira to the backseat, leaving Lea isolated in the front of the car.

"Well, I'm currently in my second year of college." He smiled at her. The envy inside her merely bubbled in response.

"That's so cool! Like, what are you studying?" Ashley babbled as Lea felt her grip on the steering wheel tighten. She viciously gritted her teeth, not trusting in speaking lest she gave away her jealousy.

"I find myself interested in the justice system." Lea glanced in the rear-view window and watched Kira's eyes flash red for a millisecond before returning to their amiable tawny brown. Ashley's lack of reaction informed Lea that the blonde hadn't noticed a thing. Lea relaxed slightly, it reminded her that no matter what they were still partners and no bimbo could come between them.

"So, that means you want to be a lawyer? 'Cause my daddy's one. Maybe he can give you an internship or something? I can talk to him and maybe pull a few strings." Ashley winked at him.

"That's amazing. You really think you can do that for me?"

"Totally. I'd just love to see you in those business suits they wear. Besides I think it's super awesome that you're interested in stuff like that. Most guys in high school don't even care. But, college guys are way more mature, right?" Lea twitched as she noticed that Ashley was batting her eyelashes for the umpteenth time.

"We're here." Lea sharply interjected as she was not interested in hearing Kira's reply.

The dysfunctional trio walked outside into the hot California air before being doused with an icy blast of air when they entered the building. The mall itself was massive; numerous shops and restaurants were located within the premises (even a bowling alley), which made it the prime hang out spot for any sociable teen. So, it came as no surprise to Lea when she saw Jenna along with other nameless B-listers lounging near the giant fountain in the food court.

"Ash! Lea! Over here!" Lea cringed at Jenna's call; she had been hoping to avoid meeting anyone else on this farce of a shopping trip but put on her best game face. She pointedly decided to stay at Kira's side as Ashley skipped over to mingle with the crowd. Lea froze when she noticed Cole in the mob as well. He shot her a flirty grin which was much more goofy than seductive and she quickly glanced away.

"Who's this?" Jenna narrowed her eyes as she sized up Kira. An action that Lea knew was a ploy; the girl was merely playing hard to get. An act Jenna had used time and time again to snag the guys before Ashley could.

"This is Daniel! He's from that party Lea's parents threw, remember? He's the boss' son. And he's in college." Ashley chirped as she put unnecessary emphasis on the last sentence.

"Oh. What college do you go to?" Jenna asked and Lea rolled her eyes. Why had she never noticed the poor flirting skills of her supposed best friends prior to this moment? How did they expect to get any worthy guy (especially those of the same caliber as his sexiness Kira) being the ditzy airheads they were?

"Hey, Lea." Lea heard the husky voice of Cole who had moved his way through the crowd to get closer.

"Oh, hi Cole." Lea tried her best to sound bubbly but couldn't help but to stare at Kira, Ashley and Jenna.

"So, we still up for the party right? Frankie told me that he's inviting a bunch of frat boys from the university so you'll know it'll be awesome."

"Awesome," Lea echoed emptily as she tuned Cole out.

Okay, so she was jealous of Ashley and Jenna. Big deal. Although it certainly wasn't fair she was stuck with Cole, she had to make sacrifices for her social life. Daniel was currently the new guy without a reputation (granted he was an insanely hot stud muffin) and she was supposed to stick with Cole. Even though she loathed him, she could never be as nasty as to dump him without a good excuse (even if she dearly wanted to). She'd wait and start a nasty rumor about Cole cheating on her and then abandon the idiot. Which would then leave her free to date Daniel.

"Hey, Ash, are you ready to go shopping? That stupid housekeeper is coming over in a couple of hours and my mom wants me home by then." Lea quickly lied wanting desperately to put her new plan into action.

"Um, yea, but why?" The blonde stopped mid-conversation and turned to Lea with a rather puzzled look.

"My mom thinks she's stealing stuff though she's never been caught. So she wants me there whenever the housekeeper's at our house." Lea replied as she nearly dragged Ashley away from Kira. Although she couldn't do anything about Jenna, Lea continued to hope that Kira wasn't into chunky brunettes.

* * *

><p>"What do you think about this one?" Lea looked over at the dress Ashley was holding.<p>

"Nah. Green's not your color," Lea answered as she lazily skimmed the closest rack of clothing.

"Hey, what's going on over there?" Ashley's voice sounded like an odd mix of panic and confusion. Two things that never should go together.

Lea glanced over to the corner of the store where she watched a woman (who was obviously a sales associate) conversing with a rather intimidating man. The man was scruffy to say at the very least; his hair was dyed bright orange and had a multitude of piercings and tattoos. The woman was slowly backing up as the man seemed to be drawing closer and closer.

It was then that Lea recognized the man. His name was Seth Walters, he had been in her art class prior to dropping out of high school. He probably had a bright future ahead of him before his father left his mother and him to fend for themselves. After that, Seth was never quite the same anymore. From then on, Seth was known for his acts of vandalism and the go-to-guy for drugs; he was even recognized in the local gangs. Currently, he was simply acknowledged as the high school dropout and community pot head.

Time slowed as Lea watched the blade plunge into the stomach of the woman and suddenly gushed forward a liquid crimson that ran down her shirt. It took longer than normal for the victim's scream to reach Lea's ears and even longer for her to even register Ashley's. The man seemed to orchestrate time as it slowed and quickened with every stab he took. Lea could no longer hear the screams; the only thing she could understand the thump of her own heart.

_Why isn't anyone helping? Where is security? What do I do? _Her subconscious screamed at her to act, to run, to scream, to do anything but stand frozen like statue. It was then that within her mind echoed a single thought.

_The Death Note. _

Now Lea understood why Kira had told her to keep a page of the Death Note on her person at all times. Lea dropped to her knees and hid behind the clothing rack. Now that she was shielded from vision she rummaged through her bag and grabbed a tube of mascara along a folded square of paper. Without hesitation she scribbled the following name:

**Seth Walters **

She then proceeded to rip the note into pieces and waited as she felt her own heart slow in anxiety. The death was carried out like clockwork. She watched as Seth briefly paused and dropped his knife to the ground as he looked up to the heavens as though God himself had spoken to him. A flood of unnamed emotions rushed through her veins. The surge of emotions blurred her vision as Lea felt herself mentally shut down. She fell onto the plush carpet of the department store and welcomed the darkness as her consciousness took a vacation.

"Lea!" Lea was startled into consciousness and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the blinding light. She was slightly confused when she found Kira standing over her with his large brown eyes filled with worry.

"Where am I . . . Daniel?" Lea cursed herself for nearly forgetting Kira's alias. She felt a wave of dizziness drown her as she rushed to prop herself up.

"Don't worry, you're safe now." He gently soothed as he placed his arms around her figure. Lea returned the gesture although she had a nagging feeling that this was all a front. From the corner of her eye she noticed Jenna accompanied by Ashley and Cole standing near the window of the small room. Her gut twisted in disappointment because a small part of her wished that he hadn't been faking.

"How are feeling, Lea?" Kira pulled away as Lea slouched back onto pillows.

"Um, okay I guess. But where am I? How did I get here? All I can remember is being with Ashley at the . . ." Lea abruptly cut herself off as the past events flashed in her head. Seth Walters. The Death Note.

"You should calm down first Lea. Although the doctor said you were perfectly fine, we don't want to take any chances." Kira's soothing words were a melody to her ears and Lea nodded obediently.

"What happened? All I remember is that guy stabbing that woman but after that . . ." Lea's voice drifted off as she waited for someone to fill in the blanks for her.

"Well, astonishingly, Seth died after the stabbing. But the paramedics didn't publicly release any information about the circumstances of his death." Although Kira's face was perfectly neutral Lea could see the crimson leak into the irises of his eyes. He was overjoyed by her act of justice.

"It's a good thing too. That douchebag didn't deserve to live after what he did." Lea was shocked to hear such spite coming from Jenna. She had always figured Jenna had "good girl" morals since her mother repeatedly forced her to go to church.

"It was so terrible!" Ashley shrieked for good measure.

"What about that lady? I mean, is she okay?" Lea blinked.

"It was too late by the time security and the paramedics arrived." The room was silent as everyone seemed to mull over that bitter fact of life.

"Christ. They closed down the whole mall. They even interrogated Ashley after they took you to the hospital! And she had nothing to do with it. Why are people so crazy nowadays?" Jenna muttered.

"Yeah, crazy." Cole nodded in agreement. Lea was about to ask a few more questions when she was interrupted by the sound of the hospital door opening.

"Lea Reynolds? I'd like to ask you some questions if you don't mind." It was a policeman sporting a shiny badge. He was balding and rather hefty; the officer reminded Lea of her Dad if she imagined hard enough. He sported a salt-and-pepper cut and his uniform hugged him snugly.

"Um, sure. But why? I mean, I didn't do anything wrong did I?" Lea asked getting more confused by the minute. _Calm down, it's not like they suspect anything. There's no way that they know about the Death Note._

"Oh no. Don't worry. It's just protocol, but I do have to ask your friends to leave if it's no trouble." Kira and her friends exited and she caught Kira giving her a slight glance before shutting the door behind him.

"Well Miss Reynolds how are you feeling?" He inquired as he settled down into a chair and pulled out a note pad.

"Okay I guess. I hope I'll be able to go home soon." Lea mumbled. _Were they able to see me in the surveillance cameras?_

"So Miss Reynolds, what do you remember?" His hand was poised to write.

"Um, well I remember Ashley pointing out some guy acting rather suspiciously. Then all of a sudden he pulled out a knife and began stabbing this woman. It all happened so fast. All I can remember are the screams . . . and the blood . . ." Lea choked on her tears as she covered her face with her hands and the officer nodded sympathetically while jotting a few notes down.

"It's alright Miss. I think that's all the information I'll need for now. If there's anything else you can remember then be sure to contact me." With that the officer left, leaving Lea alone in the hospital room. _Angelina Jolie ain't got shit on me._

She felt herself staring at the sanitized white walls. The entire room felt sterile and smelled of rubbing alcohol. Something just didn't feel right about this room. Seth Walters was dead because of her. She had killed Seth Walters. Killing a criminal and being there to witness it herself introduced Lea to a brand new emotion.

Guilt.

Why did she feel so remorseful? Seth had deserved it, didn't he? He made the choice to stab the woman. He made the choice of becoming a criminal. Lea had every right to do whatever she could to stop him. She couldn't have possibly just stood there and watched. She had to do something. So there was no rational reason why she should felt guilty and slightly ashamed. She was helping make the world a better, right?

But killing Seth had been completely unlike the murders of the criminals on TV. She briefly thought of Kira and wondered how many he had killed; did he ever felt an iota of guilt whenever he killed someone? Had he ever felt guilt at all?

Could she really continue the work of a vigilante? Could she really continue killing other human beings? But she made a promise to Kira. She had vowed to uphold justice, to kill every criminal in this world and usher in a new era. She was supposed to be Kira's equal. She had no use for guilt.

The car ride home with Kira was dead silent. The sun was setting and the sky bled crimson as it cast shadows on the ground.

"Kira." Kira gave her a pointed look and Lea returned it with a serious one.

"What is it?" He shifted his gaze back to the road and Lea fiddled with her hands nervously.

"Did it hurt to become a god of death?" Her voice was breathy and she was doubtful that she truly wanted to hear the answer.

Kira was quiet and minutes ticked by before he chose to answer. But Lea felt as though she already knew what he was about to say.

"I felt nothing." His tone was even as he kept his eyes on the road.

Lea's shoulders slouched as she rested her head against the car window. Her breath formed fog onto the cool pane of glass.

Kira had probably never felt guilty.

Her insides twisted horribly as that thought repeated itself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

** Special thanks to ****ShardsOfTheCrystalHeart**** for adding this story to their alert list!**

** Special prize to ****SasoLOVE111**** for answering the question correctly first. She now will receive a batch of vodka-infused cookies! (WARNING: The authoress is not responsible for any actions that follow after the digestion of these cookies.) **

**Sakanascales876****: Although the idea of Mello falling into a chocolate-induced coma and killing off Mr. Creeper and friends is extremely tempting, I was compelled to dedicate this chapter to Lea and Kira. Though, it's much duller writing them than Wynter and company. Any ideas on how to improve Lea? Your suggestions are always welcome. :)**

** Thanks to ****CrazyYaoiLover101**** for adding this story to their favorites list and adding me as one of their favorite authors!**

** Random fun facts about ****Deicide**** will be posted on my bio. **

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	5. Of Doormen and Car Chases

A word to the wise isn't necessary, it's the stupid ones that need the advice.

-Bill Cosby

Disclaimer: [Insert witty retort regarding disclaimers here.]

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Of Doormen and Car Chases<strong>

Yes. It was _**ensured **_that if Wynter was not killed by Mello's gun nor the diner's pathetic excuse of a strawberry sundae, surely Mello's driving would do her under (and if that didn't guarantee death then some combination of the three). She was quite sure that her past decisions had anchored one foot in the grave already but Mello was probably going to be the one drop the dirt on her. Not only had the man the courage to speed nearly fifty miles _**over**_ the speed limit, he had the fucking audacity to flip the bird to a damned cop. Now, surely you're thinking, how could this possibly get any worse for our heroine?

"Mel, are ten cop cars chasing us?" Matt's eyes never looked up from his game.

"Matt, you are mistaken. Two more have also begun to follow us." Near's ever so dependable monotone sounded.

"No I'm not. One of them flipped over onto another when we took that turn just now." Matt retorted as more button pressing ensued.

Mello snorted, "These fucking idiots don't even know how to drive."

Wynter was currently unable to make a sound lest she hurl her sundae onto Mello and start WWIV. And she thought it would be rather inconsiderate seeing as Mello was already driving them into their graves. It also did not help that she was currently pinned under Mr. Creeper's arm making her unable to move and she _**really**_ didn't like the fact that one of Near's robots was painfully piercing her right thigh.

"Uh, Ryuuzaki?" Wynter's question was muffled since her face was painfully pressed against the detective's shoulder.

"Yes, Ms. Wynter?" Ryuuzaki's usual monotone answered not even reflecting the current danger/crisis/impending doom.

"Um, I have to go." Wynter mumbled.

"Go where?" His owlish eyes didn't blink.

"Damn it Ryuuzaki! Tell Mello to stop the damn car and pull over at a gas station or something!" Wynter shrieked while simultaneously elbowing both Near and Ryuuzaki in the ribs.

"Ryuuzaki, shut her up or I will." Mello's deadly voice screamed back.

"This is torture, you know! I mean who would be as cruel as to keep a _**lady**_ from going to the bathroom?" Wynter wailed.

"Some lady you are." Mello remarked.

"Oh that's right. I totally forgot that _**you're**_ twice the lady I am."

"Wanna say that again, bitch?"

"Bring it, tranny!"

"Mello and Ms. Wynter, I implore you both to calm yourselves . . ."

"Calm? Calm! You want me to stay calm, Ryuuzaki? You should have thought of that before tranny over here decided to make the world's longest high-speed car chase in California! Why the hell is he driving anyways? Why didn't you choose someone saner, like Hannibal or Vlad the Impaler?" Wynter's voice reached several octaves as she repeatedly elbowed Near at the ribs.

"Mello, perhaps it would be best that we lose the authorities. While they are doing their jobs, we must evade any other unnecessary. . . calamities before reaching our destination. And Ms. Wynter, I must ask you to practice patience for we are not far from our destination." Ryuuzaki calmly ordered.

Wynter grumbled while Mello's eyes narrowed but nodded nonetheless. Wynter was silently impressed by Ryuuzaki's control on his "companions". Perhaps, he was the cult leader that they religiously followed without question? _Or, maybe, he's their pimp._

Unsurprisingly (well not to Wynter), the gang was able to escape the authorities without as much as a scratch on the expensive car. They soon pulled up their destination: a mansion.

Correction, it wasn't simply a mansion. Describing it as only "a mansion" would be like calling Hitler mildly inconsiderate. You just couldn't do it. The mansion was classically Hollywood; the intricate fountain at the end of the winding driveway (which was outlined in imported Japanese cherry blossoms) simply pushed the lavish ambiance over the edge. Wynter had doubted that she would ever see a place like this personally (forget living in it) while alive. But sadly, Wynter was unable to admire the several expensive, exotic flowers in her rush to vault over Mr. Creeper to get to the bathroom in record time.

After attending to her urgency, she was stunned by the ornate antiques that decorated the entire building. _Everything feels very Victorian or is it Elizabethan? _Wynter was never any good at history. Although the finery did explain why she noticed a rather suppressed British (_or is it English?)_ accent from Mr. Creeper's monotone, the accent was extremely slight and she already going out on a limb on the decorations as it was. Fortunately, Wynter was able to proficiently navigate her way back to the others who were lounging around in what Wynter could only assume had been a ballroom prior to their residence.

The room, while still dressed in elaborate fixings, had been stripped of almost all furniture and was saddled with multiple computer monitors and miscellaneous technology. The large chandelier slightly swaying overhead had been dimmed and cast somber rays of light throughout the massive room. In the center were two lush couches accompanied with a wooden table. From the edges of her vision, Wynter noticed a substantial kitchenette sandwiched within a corner. It was obvious that this place had been well equipped long beforehand.

"What, exactly, is this place?" Wynter muttered as she continued to glance at her surroundings.

"This, from now on, will be our headquarters. I hope you will find the accommodations most adequate. This room will be where we man our investigation; your private quarters are located in the east wing." Ryuuzaki explained as he sat on one of the many swivel chairs and immediately began typing away.

"How did you get this place anyways? Don't tell me you robbed a bank or something. 'Cause that would just be ridiculous!" Wynter began to laugh rather nervously.

"Of course not." She detected an ever so slight scoff from him.

"Then, how did you get the money?" Her eyes furrowed in anticipation.

". . . That is irrelevant." He nonchalantly answered.

"Ryuuzaki!"

Yep, Ryuuzaki was most definitely a filthy rich pimp in disguise.

* * *

><p>Sheldon had always been, well, a weenie. He was the type of grown man that still lived with his mother and had three nightlights to ward off the evils of darkness. Sheldon had also never encountered a dangerous situation in his twenty-seven years of existence (although there was that time when he nearly choked on a pretzel but that was a false alarm). In addition to his naïveté, he unfortunately had acquired a terrible stutter during the years. All of these factors simply added to his misfortune during his encounter with a terribly eccentric old woman accompanied by her vicious man-eating cat. Needless to say, the encounter was quite unlike anything he had ever endured during his five years as a doorman at the apartment complex.<p>

"Listen here you, tell me where the hell I can find my niece and I might let you keep your manhood. That is to say if you even have any." The old woman snarled causing Sheldon to shriek and seek shelter underneath the front desk.

"Meow!" The seemingly innocent sound was like a tremendous growl to the bespectacled Sheldon and it only reinforced his sniveling.

"Can it, Rufus! Be a decent cat and smell her out, will ya?" The antique of an animal lazily leaped out of its master's arms and began to meander aimlessly around the lobby.

Sheldon briefly mustered the rest of his bravery only to lose it all when he came face to face with the cat-beast. Said man undoubtedly wet his pants. And when the cat-beast hissed and showcased its magnificent pearly whites, well, let's just say that Sheldon's pants really weren't going to thank him anytime soon.

"Forget it, Rufus! Let's hit the road! I might as well make it to that wrestling match in California since my lazy-assed niece forgot her prior arrangements." The old woman moved to make her exit while cussing out any living object located within a ten foot radius. She also failed to notice the absence of her animal companion as she embarked on her journey.

Needless to say, Wynter did not attain her manners from Great-Aunt Hilda.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** I had typed this little tidbit ahead of schedule so I thought why not post it?**

**Please note:**** The events in this chapter are parallel to those of chapter 4. Meaning the mall stabbing occurred during the car chase. However, the scene involving Rufus and Hilda happened only a few hours after the departure of Wynter and friends. **

** I feel compelled to mention that ****Deicide**** will probably stay at the T rating unless I am suggested otherwise. **

**SasoLOVE111****: Thanks for reviewing! :) Tell me if you have any suggestions.**

**sakanascales876****: Hope you enjoyed the high-speed car chase shout out (don't worry this is all according to the outline). Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. I feel much more motivated to improve Lea's personality. You really hit the nail on the head when you said she's the character she's supposed to be. Lea is presumably the character that you want to hate. Though, I want to balance out the spite with a more humility. Out of all the characters, Lea should be the most human (and I don't mean that since she does not have any awesome powers). I will most likely explore more psychological themes with her (the last chapter was merely skimming the surface).**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._**  
><strong>


	6. Give Your Wallet to Schadenfreude

I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.

-Edgar Allan Poe

Disclaimer: Of course I own Death Note! I also own a three-headed penguin/unicorn hybrid that shits rainbows in addition to several Tasers. Isn't that lovely?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Give Your Wallet to a Schadenfreude<strong>

Wynter had spent the last two hours exploring her new abode and was rather bewildered. She had been pestering Ryuuzaki for details on how he acquired the estate but concluded that it was simply better that she didn't know. She was in the midst of strolling around yet another hallway in the expansive east wing, when a shrill ring pierced her thoughts. The loud noise had emanated from the cell phone that Ryuuzaki had bequeathed to her; his explanation was along the lines that it was a means of contact if she were ever needed. Mello had then snatched it from her and proceeded to explain all the truly _**wonderful **_ways he was going to punish her should she ever feel the urge to call the authorities or anyone else for that matter (nearly all the ways involved her entrails). Needless to say, Wynter valued her own intestines thank you very much.

"Uh, hello?" Wynter asked confused as she wondered what Ryuuzaki could possibly want.

"Ms. Wynter, your presence is needed immediately." Ryuuzaki replied before immediately hanging up. Wynter grit her teeth as she hurried towards the makeshift ballroom/HQ all the while cursing Mr. Creeper.

She arrived within moments and flopped onto the couch while heavily panting, for she had sprinted the distance. Ryuuzaki was sitting on the couch opposite sipping a cup of tea while Mello and Matt were in swivel chairs and Near, of course, was on the ground.

The only thing that could be heard besides Wynter's heavy breathing was the blare of the news being played on one of the larger plasma screens.

"And what could only be described as a miracle to most, the Malibu Mall Stabbing began as a normal day at the mall turned deadly when the perpetrator (a young man in his teens) repeatedly stabbed a sales associate before he supposedly collapsed. Previously, authorities were unable to describe the circumstances of his death but now they have confirmed that the young man died from a heart attack. Although, they are still uncertain whether the death was drug-induced or not. . ." The newswoman's voice ceased as they began to show the footage of the crime.

Wynter held her breath as she watched the young man repeatedly slash at the sales associate he had cornered. With every stab came a cascade of blood as it collided with the cheap carpet of the department store. With every puncture Wynter could feel her heart squeezing painfully. Something about this scene felt eerily familiar almost as if she had witnessed the same event multiple times. It was so familiar that Wynter felt that she knew exactly what was going to occur next.

When the perpetrator finally ceased the stabbings she couldn't help but glance to the ceiling as well. It was as though she could feel a bigger presence observing from above. She had this terrible feeling that this man knew he was going to die; in those precious seconds prior to death, he had confessed his sins to the heavens only to be struck down by God.

"Ms. Wynter, do you notice the two females near the left-hand corner of the screen?" Ryuuzaki's calm voice pulled her out of her stupor.

"Um, yeah? What about them?" Wynter narrowed her eyes trying to focus on the two blurry female figures. They both were blonde (though differing shades) and about the same height. The only real difference was that one had fell unto her knees halfway through the stabbing. No doubt to shock or something. But something was off about her actions, she continued to move about and rifled through her bag.

_** What could she possibly be searching for? A phone perhaps?**_

But that was unlikely for she failed to hold it up to her ear or even dial for that matter. Then all of a sudden, her actions stopped. And then, a few seconds after the man dropped his knife, she collapsed.

"The one standing is Ashley Abel and the one kneeling is Lea Reynolds. We have reason to believe that either of them may be suspects." Ryuuzaki stated before draining his cup of tea.

Wynter choked in surprise, "Suspects? On what grounds? One just collapsed in shock! How could you possibly . . ."

"The camera that caught this footage is privately owned by the mall. There is no possible way for anyone to have known about the stabbing unless they were witnessing it as it happened. Furthermore, seeing as both the victim and killer have died, Miss Abel and Miss Reynolds are the most plausible suspects." Ryuuzaki interjected as he began to scoop mounds of sugar into his tea. So much sugar, that Lea was absolutely sure that he would have received better results by pouring the tea into sugar.

"But . . ."

"Mello and Matt, it would be necessary to obtain a copy of the camera footage." Ryuuzaki diverted his attention from Wynter.

"Yea, yea. Mel and I'll head to the mall and pick one up. I need to go anyways. I hear they're coming out with more games for the Nintendo 3DS." Matt replied as he clicked away at his game.

"Wait!" Wynter shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Wynter?" Ryuuzaki asked as he gorged on the array of cookies in front of him.

"If they're going to the mall, I'm coming too!"

"And what, exactly, do you mean to accomplish there?" Ryuuzaki asked as he chewed on sweets.

"I've been in the same damn clothes for the nearly twelve hours! I demand compensation since you've denied me of alcohol." Wynter demanded as she crossed her arms. The plastic filled with clothes proved to be rather inadequate as she later realized that in her hurry she had only packed a bra and one gym sock.

"You do understand that if you do receive the clothes that it will take the place of your weekly salary. Correct?"

Wynter gaped but quickly shut her mouth as she contemplated her options. _**Let's see, I couldn't take Near's clothes because he's way too small. Mr. Creeper is simply out of the question. I suppose I could try to steal the tranny's clothes but they're much too revealing and wouldn't want Mr. Creeper seeing me in those. I guess I could survive on Matt's clothes . . . Or give up my ration of alcohol. What to do?**_

"Fine. I choose clothes. But I hope you understand that looking this good comes with a price." Wynter scowled as she mourned the loss of her beloved drink. She was going to make this man pay or more precisely his wallet.

"Of course," Ryuuzaki answered.

Wynter smiled gleefully. It was painfully obvious that Mr. Creeper had never gone shopping with any woman before (especially one with slightly sadistic tendencies). Mr. Creeper better say goodbye to his wallet and hello to the debt collectors.

* * *

><p>Mike's health was not the best at the moment. His normally stress-free job as a security guard had suddenly committed suicide as his peaceful mall turned into the crime scene since some homicidal maniac had decided it was excellent weather for a stabbing. The entire mall was overridden with FBI agents and investigators hours after the event. They had the effrontery to steal his coffee and order him to make more, which was probably why he felt his pulse stop entirely when he came face to face with a transvestite and some teenager rhythmically jabbing away at his video game.<p>

The blonde tranny narrowed his eyes as Mike's body went into shock. His eyes would then notice that this he/she was indeed carrying a real gun. An object of destruction that Mike's Taser would surely lose to. Forget lose to, it would probably shock himself rather than the cross-dressing offender.

"Listen here, Mike." The offender's deep voice was a complete contradiction to it's effeminate body.

Abruptly, Mike collapsed and his body fell into a pile onto the tacky linoleum.

Kira, apparently, was not the only one who could kill with a name and a face.

Mello snorted as he stepped over the man's body and stole his Taser. When he entered the security room which contained the security tape footage, he saw that the room contained several more officers and even two FBI agents. All of them gaped at Mello as he swiftly drew the Taser while simultaneously gnawing on a piece of chocolate.

"Hello, gentlemen."

"Who . . .Who are you! This is a restricted area!"

Wordlessly, Mello devoured his piece of chocolate before crumpling the wrapper and throwing it at the officers. In the rush to apprehend the offender, they all collapsed as they made contact with the Taser. Soon the room was littered with bodies and the blonde nonchalantly pushed a body off the swivel chair.

"Hurry up, Matt. If we leave the bitch alone for too long Ryuuzaki will have our heads."

Matt finally pocketed his Nintendo DS and cracked his knuckles. Within seconds the footage was downloaded onto a secure flash drive and deleted from the main database. Matt then wiped their presence from said database and the duo left the room with a swagger that would make pirates envious.

Mello stroked his new Taser with a feeling akin to glee. He couldn't wait to try out his new toy on Near.

Back at the mansion, Near felt a disturbing urge to shiver but continued to play with his robots.

* * *

><p>Upon their arrival, Wynter had immediately ditched the tranny and Matt before shuffling over to the trendier department stores (although an entire wing of the mall had been closed for investigation of the mall stabbing). Ryuuzaki had given her his debit card with the pin number and had given her no restrictions what so ever. During the next few hours, Wynter was able to accumulate enough junk to fill three walk-in-closets and enough hygiene products to make a mysophobe sigh in awe. Although, she later found out that all of her purchases wouldn't possibly fit into the trunk of the car. She then rented a moving truck and began to toss all of her purchases in there.<p>

Needless to say, Mello was displeased. And by displeased, he had threatened to tie her to train tracks and have a train repeatedly run across her carcass (in addition to the fact that he would personally conduct the locomotive) after mutilating her with a rusty fork and frying her with his Taser. But he soon quieted when she bought him nearly fifty pounds of chocolate from the Godiva store. After ensuring that Ryuuzaki's bank account was nearly $6,000 lighter (not including the rental fee for the truck nor Mello's chocolate), Wynter finally gave her consent to go back home. While passing a bakery on the way home, she had also purchased a dozen different cakes to devour when she returned to the headquarters.

The moon had begun to make its nightly climb towards the sky as she watched the sky the bleed in absence of the sun. Wynter shivered slightly in the cool air as she leaned against the rails of her balcony as she observed the heavens. She had just finished putting away all of her purchases (by putting away, she had actually dumped them in piles in her closet) and she had managed to sneak enough bottles of alcohol to make an elephant tipsy. Her cakes, however, had been promptly confiscated and she had been forced to watch Ryuuzaki feast upon what was rightfully hers. Wynter had allowed this only because she felt content seeing as she had purchased more than enough alcohol to make up for the small loss.

Wynter was shaken out of her reverie when a pathetic growl sounded throughout the yard. Glancing around, she tried to pinpoint the location of the noise and finally discovered a small animal pacing near the edge of the garden. Curious, Wynter bolted downstairs and began to search for it in the dusk. She soon came face to face with an ancient cat with a graying coat but teeth as sharp as pickaxes.

"Rufus? What the hell are you doing here in California?" Wynter's brow furrowed in confusion.

_** How did he end up here of all places?**_

Rufus allowed Wynter to pick him up and began to purr as she stroked his head. She walked back inside and headed towards the kitchenette that, fortunately, had milk.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Mello shouted as he chomped on his chocolate bar.

"He is not a thing. This is Rufus." Wynter replied as she poured milk into a bowl.

"Are you shitting me? Ryuuzaki, tell me that you aren't actually going to let her keep it." Mello slammed his fist on the desk while glaring at Wynter.

"So as long he does not interfere with the investigation, I have no complaints." Ryuuzaki answered as he scooped another spoon of cake into his mouth.

Mello shouted his refusals as Wynter watched Rufus stroll around the headquarters. He completely bypassed Matt without even a second glance. Fascinated, Wynter's eyes followed Rufus as he made his way towards the albino. The two had a bit of a staring contest as cat eyes challenged albino. Near had actually paused in his puzzle and focused entirely on the creature before him. And so the epic stare-off between albino and saber-tooth began. Before long, Rufus did the inevitable.

He hacked a hair ball onto him. (To give Rufus credit his action did, in fact, make Near blink.)

Mello stopped mid-sentence and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"On second thought, I think the cat and I are going to get along just fine." Mello smiled.

"Better him than me." Wynter muttered and proceeded to giggle as she realized the cat puke was the only color on Near. The startling green, hairy substance on bleach white was quite the fashion statement.

* * *

><p>Wynter's eyes fluttered open as she realized that she was lying upon grass of some sort.<p>

_** How the hell did I end up outside?**_

The last thing she could remember was falling asleep in her new bedroom. She squinted as she tried to establish a bearing on her surroundings but to no avail. The chilly midnight air complemented the giant full moon overhead. Wynter attempted to use the dim moonlight only to trip over a large object and face plant in the grass.

Her eyes smarted as she looked over the item which was a smooth, round stone of some kind. In the moonlight she could barely make out the words:

** Seth Walters **

** April 2, 1993 - April 23, 2011**

Trepidation filled her entire body as she stumbled away from the tombstone only to discover countless more as far as she could see. There must have been acres and acres of them all aligned in neat little rows looking eerily like dominoes. She noticed a massive structure in the center of the cemetery and found her feet taking her there involuntarily. The cool grass sent chills to her bare feet and she tried to ignore the myriad of pebbles digging into the soles of her naked feet.

She soon realized that the structure had been a statue. The statue was of a man and a woman. The woman was holding scales but was not blindfolded as usual. The man was holding what appeared to be a sword. The larger than life statues were extremely intimidating as they towered above Wynter's head. She could barely make out the words on the plaque in the moonlight:

** In homage to the just and unerring Lord Kira and Lady Astraea.**

**This graveyard housing the bodies of the many vile criminals, they have so valiantly persecuted, serves as a memorial to our virtuous heroes. Humanity owes a great debt to their incorruptible justice. And without their efforts, this world would have never been able to embrace this new era of peace and prosperity.**

Wynter found herself staring into the faces of Kira and Astraea. Both were smiling but something about their grins made Wynter feel as though she had been punched in the stomach. Their smiles were phony, anyone could see that, and to be honest they scared her. The moonlight cast shadows unto the faces of the statues making them look demonic and sadistic. Wynter blindly took a few steps as something in her mind screamed at her to run and never look back. And run she did, as she vaulted over the tombstones not caring whether she obtained cuts or bruises on her limbs. She just had to get away from there. She didn't stop running and the tombstones seemed infinite. With every step she only encountered more and more of them.

Suddenly, Wynter's vision turned black and she then found herself in a personal office. Light from the window behind her illuminated the cozy room and books were stacked around the walls. Wynter looked down at her hands and to her utmost astonishment they were wrinkled and aged. She tried to scream but it died in her throat. She glanced at the photographs on her desk and what she saw stunned her. Memories flashed before her eyes and each one more agonizing than the last. They were all faces she had seen before. They were all people she had seen in every single one of her dreams.

She finally understood now.

She was dreaming of different worlds.

The worlds she experienced were all possible paths of the same time line. Every new point of view was merely an incarnation of her own soul mutated through dimensions. Every dream had simply been her life in a different dimension. She had witnessed her own possible past, present and future.

She then found herself curled up in ball in her bed and as watched the alarm clock on her bedside table flashed 2:00 A.M.

In the span of a few short hours, Wynter had experienced what others could only feel during lifetimes.

Her own death.

The rise of two blasphemous gods.

The birth of a terrible world.

And she realized that all of her lies were shattering around her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**ShardsOfTheCrystalHeart****: Have I told you that I simply adore your pen name? When I was writing Ryuuzaki as a "pimp" I couldn't help but crack up as well. I was actually a little unsure how it would be received but amazingly everyone seems to love the idea of Ryuuzaki getting rich off his successors (bitches). **

**Krieon:**** Thanks for adding ****Deicide**** to your favorites! Yea, Lea is pretty much my trouble character. She's the most difficult to write and well I don't think I really ever do her justice. I wanted to show her spite but I guess I unwittingly made her a little too perfect as well. Thanks for the advice, I'll work on it.**

** Thanks to ****oOoODoodlebuddiOoOo**** for adding this story to their alert list!**

**Sakanascales876****: Ryuuzaki with a pimp cane . . . I'm still cracking up about it. I have no idea where that comical genius came from. The car chase was extremely enjoyable to write. Although I feel that I could have embellished it a little more, I wanted to keep it straightforward. I'm glad you love Great-Aunt Hilda she's my favorite character hands down.**

**SmartGirl16****: I'm so glad it made your day. I had a blast writing the banter between Mello and Wynter (they're so fun writing!). I'm so honored that you added me as your favorite author. I'm so thankful for all the support!**

**Public Service Announcement****: ****Deicide**** will explore more somber themes but I'll do my best to package it with my dry sense of humor. It will probably touch upon some religious issues (mostly atheism and Christianity) and such but I have no intention of preaching my views on the subject. This story does not necessarily reflect my own views either. Thanks for all the support! Please review!**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	7. Blown Minds and Hysteria

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

-Edgar Allan Poe

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, but I can dream can't I?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Blown Minds and Hysteria<strong>

"Good morning, Ms. Wynter. I hope you slept well." Mr. Creeper's monotone saluted her and Wynter had to stop herself from telling him where to shove his well wishes. To be more specific, they would certainly be most appreciated where the sun didn't shine.

"Mawr!" Rufus grumbled and began to chomp on her slippers. Wynter ignored both of them and stumbled towards the kitchenette, slowly pouring herself a glass of apple juice. The mansion was eerily quiet since the tranny and Matt had left for "investigative" purposes. But Wynter had a nagging feeling that the two had simply went to buy Mello more chocolate.

"Ryuuzaki." Wynter nearly growled after downing her second glass of juice.

"Yes?" He answered while meticulously typing at his keyboard.

"How long?" Wynter spat as she slammed the glass onto the counter.

"How long, what? Could you be more concise, Ms. Wynter?"

Wynter stomped her way towards the computer and angrily kicked Near's unfinished puzzle out of her way, scattering hundreds of blank puzzle pieces every which way. Near paused and quizzically glanced at Wynter's direction rather stunned by her action.

"How long have you known that I could do this? How long have you known that I had these abilities?" Wynter pounded her fist upon the desk next to Ryuuzaki.

Ryuuzaki paused in his typing and turned slightly to better face her. Wynter's face was deadly calm though her voice said otherwise. Her hands were balled in fists so tight her knuckles were white. He leaned closer to her face, so close that Wynter could see herself reflected in his eyes.

"That is classified." He deliberately stated every syllable.

SMACK!

Ryuuzaki's eyes widened as his hand gingerly brushed his reddened cheek. Wynter was gritting her teeth practically seething and her fists still clenched. She was in no mood for his silly games.

"Don't do this to me, Ryuuzaki! I'm barely hanging on as it is! Just answer the goddamned question. How long, Ryuuzaki? Who told you?" Wynter choked on her last question and began to sob softly.

"Ryuuzaki, do you have any idea what happens when I go to sleep? Do you even know what I see? I see the unborn child from my mother's miscarriage! And you know what? My parents loved her more than me! Hell, they still probably love her more than me and she doesn't even exist in this dimension! And you know what the worst thing is? I see the life I could have had. One where I have 2.4 kids and I'm happy! The world where I don't have these godforsaken dreams and where everything is how it's supposed to be!"

Wynter's sobs only grew more and more distraught as she tugged on Ryuuzaki's white, cotton shirt. Gingerly, Ryuuzaki patted her head in what he assumed was a comforting manner. Ryuuzaki remained quiet as he was unsure what to do in this predicament. To be honest, he had never thought Wynter would come to _**him**_ of all people to cry to.

"Ms. Wynter . . ." His voice began. Wynter sniveled as she hastily released his shirt and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"Ah geez. Look, um, Ryuuzaki. C-could you please just tell me? I swear I won't tell anyone how you know." Wynter begged her voice still quivering from raw emotion.

Ryuuzaki blinked before gesturing her towards the couch. He shoved a handkerchief into her hands and set about making a cup of tea. Within minutes, Wynter had a piping hot cup of tea in her hands while she pitifully sniffed into the handkerchief.

"Ms. Wynter, how much do you know of your paternal grandmother?" Ryuuzaki questioned as he stirred his own tea.

"My grandmother? I know that she died before I was born. And that she's the one that I'm named after. But nothing else really." Wynter answered thoughtfully as she carefully sipped her tea.

"Your grandmother was a powerful psychic though none of her immediate family believed in her powers. From a young age she realized it was better that she keep her dreams to herself. She recorded all of her visions in a book which she later published under a pseudonym and became a well established authoress."

"You mean she had these dreams as well?" Wynter arched an eyebrow.

"Indeed." Ryuuzaki nodded as he drank his tea sludge.

"How did you know her?"

"I never did, but my previous guardian had. The two met by chance at a Broadway show." He answered as he reached for a cookie.

"Previous guardian?"

"Yes, my caretaker, Quillish Wammy."

"Oh."

Because what else does one say to that?

Wynter sat in stupefied silence. Her question had been answered and her mind blown.

* * *

><p>Lea couldn't quite describe what she felt for Kira at this point. Her bubbly admiration coupled along with his superior looks and intelligence had been behind their partnership from the beginning.<p>

But now, after personally witnessing a death caused solely by her, she wasn't sure what to feel. Guilt, she supposed, played a big role. But there was something else, a fear, that lurked sinisterly beneath the surface. A fear that she was becoming something alien, something else entirely.

The two of them were silently watching the news as Lea wrote names with a slight trepidation. She had continued killing criminals even after the incident. But no longer did she feel as though she was some sort of vigilante. She had matured since Seth's death. No longer was she the naïve idiot that thought killing someone with a notebook was much different than killing someone with a weapon.

"Lea, listen to this." Kira's voice broke her out of the trance and she quickly diverted her attention to the television screen.

"This morning, a videotape was delivered to the station that was supposedly created by the one behind the mass murders within the prisons." The newswoman's eyes shined in what appeared to be excitement but Lea noticed the glossy fear behind them.

**Videotape?**

The screen cut to black and an effeminate voice then spoke, "World, this is Astraea."

**Astraea?**

"I am sure that you have noticed the changes I have brought upon this world. Please do not alarm yourselves. I intend to bring a new era of peace unto the world. I request your cooperation to ensure this transition is smooth. Let us work together and embrace a new age in which we do not fear our neighbors. Thank you." The voice was then abruptly cut.

"The sender of the videotape is anonymous and a full police investigation has been launched to find him or her. The FBI and CIA have also reportedly gotten involved and the president is expected to have a press conference later this afternoon." Wynter tuned out the newswoman and tried to come to terms with the sudden turn of events.

There was someone impersonating her. Some idiot thought it would be cool to claim credit for all the murders that occurred. No doubt said idiot would be caught by the police and sentenced with her crimes.

"Kira, what do we do?" Lea quickly blurted out.

"Absolutely nothing. Whoever sent this video was obviously someone obsessed with our endeavors. I highly doubt they possess the power of the Death Note. It would be reasonable to assume this was created by a mere fan." Kira grinned to himself and Lea flinched when their eyes made contact.

"So we just let this go?" Lea asked.

"Now that the killer has voice and a name no doubt it will be easier for the public to relate to Astraea." Something about his voice told Lea that he knew much more than he let on.

"Kira, you did you send this tape?" Lea voice shook in disbelief. She tried to calm herself but to no avail.

"Oh no." Lea sighed in relief, perhaps he wasn't as insane as she thought he was.

"This was entirely your friend Jenna." He continued with a devious smirk.

**WHAT?**

Lea tried to slow her breathing but it was useless. She began to hyperventilate deep within her psyche.

**What is he thinking dragging her into this? Is he trying to get us caught? Why did he pick Jenna anyways? What should I do?**

The last thought had been driven by slight jealousy. Lea had believed they were partners, so why did he keep such a secret from her? Especially if it concerned one of her supposed friends.

"Why Jenna?" Lea hoped her voice sounded much more controlled and did not reflect any of the inner turmoil she was currently experiencing.

"During your stay at the hospital, she began praising our deeds. Apparently, she is a giant fan of our work. In fact, she even runs a fan site created solely for us. I was easily able to persuade her to submit a videotape via chat on the website."

Lea's brain seemed to stop working. Jenna, of all people, she had thought would have been against their work from the start. Although she made her bad decisions (like getting wasted at a random party), she wasn't stupid. Jenna never did anything explicitly illegal besides engaging in underage drinking. She even followed the speed limit and bitched when people texted while they drove. Jenna was the average law-abiding citizen.

"How were you able to convince her?" Lea's quivering voice asked as the room seemed to begin to spin around her.

"I sent her a page of the Death Note."

"You did what!" Lea's voice shrieked. How could he possibly do this to her? He gave Jenna a page of the Death Note?

"Lea, you are clearly misunderstanding my intentions. We need a public face, a public target if you will. Do not worry, Jenna has no idea that either one of is associated with the Death Note. If push comes to shove, Jenna is the one that gets arrested not us."

"Y-you picked her as a scapegoat?"

"A decoy. Don't worry, my dear Lea, I have no intention of pursuing a partnership with her." His false sincere words were meant to calm her nerves but they did no such thing. The fact that Kira had involved someone else in their little group without even consulting her first spoke volumes.

He was the undisputed leader.

And she was nothing more than his servant.

* * *

><p>The awkwardly tender moment between Wynter and Mr. Creeper was unfortunately destroyed when Mello sauntered in with Matt in tow. The tranny was looking especially pleased with himself for some reason, sending shivers down Wynter's spine. Whenever he was happy, mayhem and misery was sure to follow.<p>

"Why the hell are you so happy?" Wynter muttered; traces of her previous emotional breakdown had disappeared, leaving her rather peeved.

"Turn on channel ten." Mello's smug voice was insufferable as he grinned from ear to ear.

Wordlessly, Near clicked the remote and a middle-aged newswoman appeared.

"Authorities speculate whether the tape was indeed created by the mass murderer or if it was merely a fan-made creation. Regardless, the murderer now has a name. Astraea. It would seem as though the murderer is female and still at large. The infamous video has been shown all around the world . . ."

Her voice was cut off as they played the tape. The disguised voice gave Wynter the chills. The synthesized voice was oddly feminine for some reason; completely stunning Wynter who had mistakenly believed the killer was male.

"New era of peace? Embrace a new age? Who the hell is this guy?" Wynter grunted at the screen.

Ryuuzaki was silent for a while until he turned to Mello, "I believe you have brought the tape with you?"

"Hell yeah. Security was easy. FBI ain't got shit on us." Mello spat as he bit his chocolate bar.

"FBI? Don't tell me you stole the tape!" Wynter squealed as she frantically waved her arms around.

"How else were we supposed to get it, dumbass?" Mello quipped.

"I don't know! What if they trace you back here? I don't want to go to prison . . . Shit, I'm too young to go to jail . . ." Wynter began to wail as her hysteria took full control.

"Chill out, Wynter. I wiped the security tapes, there's no way they'll be able to find us." Matt's voice reassured her.

Inwardly, Wynter was much calmer than her outward appearance. She had been considering her dream since her conversation with Mr. Creeper.

_**Astraea, eh?**_

Wynter glanced upwards to the dimmed chandelier. Her eyes firm with resolve as she clenched her fists. She'd do this for her grandmother.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Damn my laziness, I would personally like to thank ****sakanascales876**** without their constant reviewing I doubt I would ever continue this story.**

** Special thanks to ****Eskimo-Otter**** for reviewing!**

** Review or I'll sic Rufus on you.**

** BTW: I have written a oneshot named ****Rayne**** that involves ****Deicide****. It deviates from the outline so it's like a cut scene from the overall story. It would be much appreciated if you check it out.**

** Thanks to ****ShardsOfTheCrystalHeart ****for reviewing!**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	8. The Flipside of a Mismatched Coin

I hold it to be the unalienable right of anybody to go to hell in his own way.

-Robert Frost

Disclaimer: Yo no poseo Death Note. [I do not own Death Note.]

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: The Flip-side of a Mismatched Coin<strong>

Juanita Eva Maria Bautista had been born to two proud first-generation American-born parents. Her mother, Adelina Adoncia Clarisa Benita Bautista (though her relatives fondly called her Adelita), had named her after her great-grandmother. The woman had been greatly admired throughout their small village for self-respect and her silent strength. Adelina could only hope that her daughter would take after her namesake. Because in all truths, Adelina simply wished the best for her daughter.

But if anyone asked the child herself she would tell you that her name was Jenna, just Jenna. A name void of any relation to her family in Mexico and the Philippines. A name that would reflect her new personality, her personal transformation. Wistfully, Jenna could say that her identity had morphed because of high school but she knew the real truth. The change had started much earlier than that.

During middle school, Jenna had been "Juanita". She had been chubby like one of God's cherubs as her mother used to say. Her mother would always tsk and shake her head at the skinnier, prettier blondes in her class and say "¡Ay dios mios! Those girls are too skinny."

And Jenna hated it all.

She hated the baby fat that clung to her bones. She hated how her mother tried to make her feel better by calling her "mi ángel" or "mi vida". She hated how her mother would always urge to eat seconds and went out of her way to give Jenna sweets whenever she wanted. With this mentality, Jenna began to blame her mother for her appearance.

She was fat, she told herself, because of her. Jenna knew she was spoiled rotten to the core and was given anything she ever wanted. She was the favorite among their children of three and the princess of the home.

But at school, she was simply known as fat Juanita.

Even in the fifth grade when she had first met Lea Reynolds, she was astounded by the girl's personality. Lea was the type of fifth grader that commanded people; she had all the teachers tightly wound around her little finger.

And Jenna worshiped the ground she walked on. It was all due to Lea that she had been integrated into her little clique; it was because of her that she was no longer Juanita but Jenna. If Jenna didn't exist then Juanita would simply be known as the fat Mexican girl that sat at the back of the class. But Jenna did exist.

Jenna was the loudmouthed, opinionated brunette with a spunky attitude problem. Jenna was eons away from Juanita, the quiet little Catholic girl her mother so desperately wished.

Jenna was the one with the eating disorder.

Jenna was the one that had tried cigarettes.

Juanita was the one that would feel isolated from her friends. Juanita was the one that didn't want to drink, didn't want to party, and just wanted to go back to her mother so she could apologize for everything she took for granted.

But Jenna didn't give a shit.

The only thing that Jenna and Juanita had in common was their principles. So when the news of criminals dropping dead within the confines of their own jail cells hit the news, both cheered.

Both began to believe that maybe God did exist and he had finally realized what a shit hole the world was.

It quickly turned into some sort of twisted infatuation. Soon after hearing of the first deaths, she scoured the internet looking for _anything _that would explain this phenomenon. But to her surprise she found nothing but a couple of shady forums dedicated to discussing this interesting turn of events.

And so Jenna, being the resourceful person she was, had created her very own website created from the ground up (she wasn't a closet tech-geek for nothing). The website had gotten a lot of traffic recently and even featured a list of the criminals that had been killed so far. She had been extremely careful about the whole thing because she knew full well that the authorities were likely to interrogate her next. But Jenna was fearless (though Juanita's overcautious nature prevailed), she had confidence in the security of her website. No one could enter without a valid password. It was a safe haven for fellow worshipers to intermingle and cooperate with their leader.

The only bump in the road was that the leader was still unknown.

At least the leader was unknown until Lea received an interesting instant message the night of the Malibu Mall Stabbing. In short, the leader was a woman by the name of Astraea and Jenna had been chosen to be her head ally. To say Jenna was honored would be a grave understatement. The girl had been ecstatic to the point of deliriousness. But Jenna was rational; she had demanded proof that the woman was indeed the leader.

And lo and behold, early the next morning an envelope addressed to her name appeared in the mail. Its contents were a single sheet of white paper and a sticky note fill with instructions written by Astraea herself.

Jenna had blinked as she grasped the plain paper in her hands. To the ordinary eye, it would seem to be a normal sheet of paper but Jenna knew better. This paper was was how Astraea killed; this paper was how Astraea cleansed the world of filth. The note had the name of the criminal she was to kill and other instructions.

Within seconds the name along with the instructions were written onto the plain paper and Jenna eagerly flipped on the news and waited.

At precisely 0900 hours, a videotape addressed to the local CNN office was delivered by a registered sex offender. Said sex offender then committed suicide after confessing his sins to a priest at a nearby Catholic church.

It took nearly twenty minutes for the tape to show on national television and only ten more for it to be playing worldwide. The footage itself had been uploaded to the website four hours _after _the tape had been shown on television to ward off any suspicion that the fan-site had been the cause of the ordeal.

But it had only taken five seconds for Jenna to sign her soul to Astraea. She had done it in her own hand with her own pen.

_Yo nací, a la vez, he muerto._

* * *

><p>Wynter had spent the last thirty minutes recounting her dream to Mr. Creeper and company. Though she did cut parts of it (like when she had face planted and turned into a giant pile of wrinkles), she tried her best to recount the monument of Kira and Astraea. She attempted to ignore Mello's scathing commentary but eventually cracked and threw a teacup at his face. During her entire tale, Mr. Creeper and the albino had failed to make a single sound.<p>

When she was finally finished, she felt extremely self-conscious. She had never described her dreams to anyone else besides Great-Aunt Hilda and even she didn't really pay attention half the time.

"So, um, do you think this Astraea chick is in cahoots with that guy you were talking about at the diner? Do you think he's Kira?" Wynter mumbled as she tried fought the urge to hide in a corner.

Ryuuzaki thoughtfully bit his thumb and even Near had paused the construction of his tower of blocks. The room was empty of any noise and Wynter felt a little scared to breath lest she disturb their momentary epiphanies.

"Although it does seem that this Astraea does possess the same powers as the killer," Ryuuzaki paused as he shoveled a piece of cake into his mouth before continuing, "I doubt she is in control. It is much more likely that she is being guided by someone else. It is probable that Kira and the man I met in my past life are one and the same."

Wynter's eyes blinked in astonishment. _**You mean I actually got something right for a change? **_

"However, this is simply more evidence that there may in fact be more than one killer." He continued nonplussed.

"M-more than one? Seriously?" Wynter gaped.

"Kira is similar to other serial killers; it would appear that he has gathered a bit of cult following. It could be possible that he has created a small group that obeys his every instruction. Very much comparable to Charles Manson." Ryuuzaki continued as he shoveled another spoonful of chocolaty goodness.

"Which is not very surprising seeing as 'Kira' also had substantial followers during the last encounter. He enlisted the aid of individuals to divert the attention away from himself and avoid suspicion. His followers also make the authorities less eager to pursue him in fear of a riot," Near added as he placed another block onto his tower.

"There is also the fact that the United States Government probably thinks this is a terrorist attack of some sort. They're probably shitting themselves in their nuclear bunkers right now." Mello sneered.

Wynter wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. She was too afraid that whatever left her mouth would make her sound like an idiot. So she wisely kept her mouth shut and simply nodded.

Wynter glanced at Matt who astonishingly wasn't playing his Nintendo DS but was instead seated front of a computer screen. His fingers were a blur on the keyboard and the screen was a maze of numbers and letters. Wynter wasn't a tech whiz but she had the feeling that he was doing something terribly difficult.

"Uh, Matt, what are you doing?" Wynter asked rather nervously.

"Hacking the Pentagon." He coolly replied as he never looked away from the screen.

"You're . . ." Wynter's mouth couldn't really form the words.

"Hacking the Pentagon." Matt answered.

A couple seconds went by before Wynter's brain exploded.

"Are you insane? That's some serious top-secret shit. Get off it right now! Do you have any idea what would happen if you get caught?" Wynter shouted at him and nearly had an aneurysm.

"Chill, Wynter. It's not my first time."

"You've done this before?" Wynter's voice unhealthily rose a few octaves.

"Yep. See, look. I'm already in." Matt turned around in the swivel chair.

While Wynter began ranting about Matt's lack of morals and common sense, Ryuuzaki asked, "Have you extracted the files we've discussed?"

"Yeah. It was a pain in the ass though. Looks like these Yanks are finally getting smarter though they're nothing compared to the Chinese. The FBI haven't been able to trace Astraea's location at all." Matt said as he took his Nintendo DS out of his pocket.

"Figures, these Americans are idiots." Mello laughed.

"We'll have to visit one of the offices soon so I can piggyback on their system and stay updated if they find anything useful." Matt gave a meaningful glance to Mello, the latter began indignantly swearing under his breath.

"Hell no! I still have fucking scars from the last time!" Mello shouted.

"Whatever, I guess we can find a different way." Matt shrugged.

"Are you even listening to me?" Wynter shrieked in irritation.

"Ms. Wynter, there is something that we would like you to help us with." Ryuuzaki began as he cut himself another piece of chocolate cake.

Wynter paused before asking, "What do you want me to do?"

"Do you remember Miss Abel and Miss Reynolds from the Malibu Mall Stabbing?" Ryuuzaki began as Wynter felt her stomach twist in anxiety.

"Yes." Wynter hesitantly answered as she wondered what Ryuuzaki wanted from her.

"You must understand that it is imperative that we interrogate them." He stated rather bluntly.

"Okay, so what does this have anything do with me?" Wynter quizzically asked.

"We need an operative in the field and seeing as Mello and Matt are out of the question since they have other matters to attend to, I would like to ask you for your help."

"Um, sure. Okay. Just as long as it's legal. It's not anything illegal, is it Ryuuzaki?" Wynter asked.

Ryuuzaki was silent.

"Damn it, Ryuuzaki!"

_He better not be using me as a prostitute._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And so, this was my attempt at making Jenna as real as possible. As a side note, I realize that my OCs are mostly female . . . Maybe I'll work on Cole next ;)**

** It infuriates me to no end when authors fail to include the translation of another language if they insert it into their story, so here's all the translations for this chapter! Please let me know if I got any of the Spanish wrong. **

** Ay Dios mios- Oh my god**

** mi ángel- my angel**

** mi vida- my life**

** Yo nací, a la vez, he muerto. - I was born, at the same time, I have died.**

**It was a pain researching names since I painstakingly pick names that have specific meanings (Juanita means "God is Gracious").**

** Extra special thanks to ****WhiteLadyDragon****! I wouldn't have any motivation for updating this fast if it wasn't for her much appreciated reviews. (BTW: I'd love to take a gander at your story. My free time is rather sporadic at best but I promise I'll do it sometime soon.)**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	9. Martyrs and Innocents

Nunca pinto sueños o pesadillas. Pinto mi propia realidad.

[I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.]

-Frida Kahlo

Disclaimer: Me? Own Death Note? What gave you that preposterous idea?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Martyrs and Innocents<strong>

Lea's heart slammed against her rib cage before continuing its plummet to the pit of her stomach. She found it increasingly difficult to breathe despite the calm atmosphere surrounding her. Her immediate reaction was disbelief. How could he possible do this to her? They were **partners**, he had said once.

_Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners._

**You didn't actually believe him, did you?**

_Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners._

**You didn't actually trust him, did you?**

_Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners. Partners._

**You didn't genuinely think he trusted you, did you?**

**Did you?**

_** Did you?**_

"Lea?" Lea's head jerked upwards so fast that her necked popped and she winced at the sound.

"Um, what? Sorry, I just spaced out for a second." Lea quickly replied trying to mask her inner voices. Kira's face did show any sign that he had noticed anything out of the ordinary from her and she sighed in relief.

"Are you still going to that party?" Kira asked. Lea noticed his eyes weren't crimson as she had originally thought. They were that tawny color she adored so much and felt as though she wasn't drowning but instead swimming in those falsely gentle pools.

"Probably not. Cole and I . . . well, we broke up." Lea answered softly.

"Oh?" Lea dearly wanted to smack that smirk off his face.

"Yeah. He said it wasn't really working out." Lea muttered. The buffoon, for once, had done something rather unpredictable. She definitely wasn't expecting the text message this morning. Lea was rather unsure how to feel about the entire ordeal. She supposed to an extent she was surprised but not angry. She felt a little irked that he had decided to end it but she was slightly content with the fact that she no longer had to fabricate a terrible rumor.

"That must be terrible. He dumped you right before the party?" Lea wanted him to stop that devious inquiring. She knew full well that he could care less about her relationships. He had no right to ask questions as though he cared when he was so obviously insincere. It was so unfair the way he was able to stir up emotions inside of her while receiving no effect on his end.

"I broke up with him this morning actually." She angrily answered. It had been agreed that **she **had broken up with **him**. Lea Reynolds did not get dumped.

"And who are you going with now?" He was messing with her, she was absolutely sure of it.

"I'm not sure." She nearly whispered in shame. She felt like loser in front of Kira and his disgustingly amiable eyes.

"I suppose I could escort you." Lea's eyes widened in shock but soon narrowed them as she cursed the rush of glee she felt at his simple statement.

_**What the hell is he playing at?**_

_**Does he think this is some kind of twisted game?**_

But before she could interrogate him further, the doorbell rang. Lea resisted the urge to shove him aside as she stomped towards the door and yanked it open, exposing Jenna and Ashley.

"Hey!" Ashley shrieked amiably as she tossed Jenna a careful look.

"'Sup." Jenna nodded as Lea gestured them inside. Something about her was off Lea silently noted as she quietly closed the door behind them.

"We heard about the break up. And we want you to know that we're here for you." Ashley declared as she captured Lea in a big bear hug. Ashley had always been the touchy-feely one in the group.

"Yea, what she said." Jenna yawned. Lea glanced at her before quickly shifting her eyes away. She had to act normally; she had to keep up this façade for as long as possible despite her desire to kick them out of her house and slam the door.

"Aw, thanks you guys!" Lea grinned.

"Are we still going to the party?" Jenna asked as she casually checked her phone.

"Of course not! I mean, Lea just broke up with Cole . . ." Ashley cried indignantly.

"It's cool, Ash. We agreed that we'll just be friends and no hard feelings." Lea casually waved away her concerns.

"If that's the case, then can I have him?" Ashley winked.

Lea resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "Yea, sure."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Jenna blurted out.

"What do you mean? Lea said it's okay." Ashley squinted her eyes in confusion.

"Um, well I just mean they broke up a couple hours ago. Shouldn't you wait a little longer until nabbing him?" Jenna quickly replied as she clenched her fists. Lea's eyes looked her over before diverting her attention elsewhere. There was something off about Jenna today. Normally, she would never care about Ashley's social reputation so why was she so concerned today?

"Yea, you're right. It'll look sleazy if I went out with him right after they broke up." Ashley replied thoughtfully.

"So, who are you going to go with now?" Jenna asked quickly.

"Um, well . . ." Lea tried to create a lie but her mind completely blanked.

"She's going with me," answered Kira's cool voice.

"Daniel, hi!" Ashley beamed.

"Seriously?" Jenna raised an eyebrow at Lea who hesitantly nodded in return. Immediately, Jenna smiled and nudged her in the ribs.

"Well, c'mon Ash." Jenna said as she dragged Ashley out the front door.

"What? I mean we just got here . . ." Ashley moaned.

"Let's leave the two lovebirds alone." Jenna's voice could still be heard even when Lea shut the door.

Lea stole a fleeting glance from Kira before quickly turning her attention away.

To which he merely smiled, his eyes bright crimson just like the day they first met.

* * *

><p>"¡Mija! ¿Dónde estás?" That shrilly voice sounded worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. It felt as though her voice itself was clawing at her ears.<p>

"Estoy en mi cuarto." Jenna spat at her closed door trying to keep her level of disdain to a minimum.

"Tu papá y yo vamos a la casa de tu tía. Regresaremos a casa mañana." It was so sickening how caring her mother tried to sound. Didn't she know that she was ruining Jenna's life?

"Bien." Jenna muttered. She dearly wanted to scream at her mother for disturbing her while she was on the computer but held her tongue. There really was no need for unnecessary conflict.

But Jenna didn't allow her mother to spoil her ecstatic mood. She had just followed Astraea's orders and the glow of her first execution was still running through her veins. She wanted to scream and declare her act of justice to the world but she kept it under lock and key. She wasn't so stupid as to reveal something like that. But nonetheless, she grinned widely as she excitedly updated the website.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when a message popped up onto her screen. It was a message from Astraea herself!

**A: Good work. We are now one step closer to ushering in a new world.**

**J: Thanx. :)**

**A: But there's something I need you to do to test your loyalty and dedication.**

**J: Nething! i'll do nething. **(Jenna's fingers shook in anxiety as she waited for her response.)

**A: Cole Anderson. 5:13 p.m. Dies from totaling his car on the highway after severing ties with friends and family.**

Jenna rubbed her eyes before re-reading the message. Astraea wanted her to kill . . . Cole? But why? What had Cole done that . . .

Jenna quickly shoved all of her thoughts away. No wonder Astraea had given her this test. She was testing her faith.

_** Faith, huh? **_

Jenna smirked to herself as she brought her pen down onto the paper.

She'd show Astraea faith.

The name was written as Juanita sobbed inside.

But Jenna was smiling with glee.

Faith was what Jenna had plenty of.

Jenna wasn't breaking inside.

Nope.

Juanita was.

But Jenna didn't have to worry.

Juanita no longer existed.

Because Astraea only killed criminals.

_**Right?**_

* * *

><p>"Okay, so let me get this straight. You want me to crash some dude's high school party," Wynter stated calmly. She was sitting on the couch trying to relay Ryuuzaki's orders back to him. She fought to keep her underlying disgust in check and thus resorted to a mock imitation of Ryuuzaki's monotone.<p>

"Correct."

"And then you want me to find the two girls that were involved in the stabbing." Wynter droned in the likeness of Ryuuzaki.

"Correct." Ryuuzaki nodded as he stirred his tea.

"And you want me to kidnap them for your own horrid amusement." She continued with a straight face.

Ryuuzaki scowled, "Ms. Wynter you are mistaken. This has nothing to do with my amusement. This is entirely for investigative purposes."

"Then why the fuck are you kidnapping them in the first place? Why are you spouting this crap about justice if you're just going against the law anyways?" Wynter shouted in fury.

"In order to catch this 'Astraea' we must gather as much evidence as we can. Interrogating those girls is crucial to this case." Wynter frowned at the sound of his firm resolve.

"I don't see why you're making _**me **_do this. Do I look like an experienced kidnapper to you?" Wynter snapped as her frown deepened.

"Ms. Wynter, please, for the sake of this case . . ." Ryuuzaki murmured in his monotone as he added more sugar to his tea cup.

"One condition." Lea had no intention of going down without a fight.

"And that is?" Ryuuzaki sighed.

"You come with me." She demanded.

"Pardon me?" Ryuuzaki's owlish eyes blinked.

"You heard me right, Ryuuzaki. You have to come with me. I'll find the girls and _**you**_ kidnap them. I have no intention of soiling my clean criminal record for the sake of your stupid case." Wynter stomped her foot for emphasis.

"Impossible. I must stay in the headquarters and . . ."

"And what, Ryuuzaki? If I have to stick my neck out then you have to as well!" Wynter spat as she fought the urge to throw her shoe at him.

"Ms. Wynter . . ."

"What if these girls are associated with Kira and Astraea? There's a damn good chance they could kill me." Wynter furiously interjected.

"Perhaps Near could . . ."

"Coward. I can't believe that you'd send a thirteen-year-old in your stead!" Wynter nearly screamed in disbelief.

"Actually, Ms. Wynter, I am sixteen." Near's soft monotone answered as he nonchalantly inserted another block onto his massive tower.

"Shut up, Near! Can't you see I'm arguing?" Wynter turned her head towards him and scolded.

"I suppose I could accompany you to ensure that you don't get yourself involved in any unnecessary trouble." Ryuuzaki contemplated and he took a sip of his tea.

Wynter nearly fist pumped in the air but quickly stopped before she embarrassed herself.

"But we must go disguised." He sharply added as he downed his cup of tea.

"Okay," Wynter shrugged.

After all, how bad could Ryuuzaki's disguises be?

* * *

><p>"I am not wearing that." Wynter declared as she threw the article of clothing at Ryuuzaki's head.<p>

"But, Ms. Wynter . . ."

"Hell no! Even hookers wouldn't wear that." Wynter adamantly shook her head.

"Ms. Wynter, you gave your consent." Ryuuzaki reminded her as he thrust the dress towards her.

"But that was before you gave me one of your bitches' costumes!" Wynter waved the clothing away as though it carried a contagious disease that would melt her face off. Or worse, it would make her pervert like Ryuuzaki.

"Ms. Wynter, it is simply a dress and is perfectly modest." Ryuuzaki tried to persuade her.

"What are you wearing as your disguise?" Wynter inquired as she felt awfully suspicious.

Ryuuzaki rummaged through his pockets before his hands reemerged with a pair of sunglasses. He held them rather strangely as though he was afraid of even touching them.

"Your disguise is a pair of sunglasses?" Wynter gawked in astonishment. She wasn't sure whether she would yell at him or pity his futile attempt to disguise himself.

"The killer only needs a name and a face to kill. If I do not disclose my name then I should be safe." Ryuuzaki explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Wynter felt a capillary explode and began to bark at him vigorously.

When she snidely suggested that he give it to Mello as a gift, the cross-dresser was not amused. After numerous threats and tears, Wynter had decided it would just be better if she wore the damned cloth abomination.

This would explain how she found herself pulling up in the driveway of yet another disgustingly beautiful mansion. Ryuuzaki was riding shotgun with his knees pulled up to his chin like always. Wynter had thought about demanding he put on his seat belt but she knew it would be in vain.

The driveway was scattered with expensive cars (Wynter had a sneaking suspicion that this was a rich kid party) and littered with beer cans and kegs despite the fact that it was only dusk. Music was blasting from the mansion and she watched a couple of frat boys drunkenly stumble towards the entrance. Wynter twitched as she scratched her wig in irritation. She thought since she had to wear this wretched dress she might as well go all out in her little masquerade. She quickly parked a short distance and slammed the car door. Ryuuzaki took his sweet time to exit the car and Wynter tapped her heel on the pavement impatiently.

Wynter stifled a slight snort when she caught sight of him. He was still dressed in that pasty white shirt and raggedy faded denim jeans. His hands were currently residing within his pockets as the sunglasses adorned his face. His eternal crouch made him look like a modern hunchback and Wynter fought the urge to look for a bell tower. _**Who in their right mind would believe he's a teenager? **_

Wynter tugged on his sleeve as she practically dragged him towards the front door which was wide open. If the music was deafening outside, Wynter could feel her eardrums bleed from the noise inside. Forget bleed, those suckers were probably committing suicide.

"Hey baby, how's about you come to my place tonight?" A foul stench of alcohol and sweat pierced her nose and Wynter glanced at the corner of her vision to see a teen with the face of stucco. It wasn't his acne that repulsed her as much as his pick up line.

"Sorry buddy, but you're gonna have to do better than that." She scoffed as she continued to drag Ryuuzaki behind her. Wynter fervently searched for the nearest keg. She needed some liquid courage if she was actually going to go through with the whole kidnapping. During her search she had been stopped multiple times by pathetic attempts to get into her pants.

_**Modest my ass, Ryuuzaki. **_ Wynter's eyelid twitched in irritation. She then swiveled around with the intention of verbally abusing him when she couldn't find him.

_**Speaking of Mr. Creeper, where the hell is he? **_

Wynter's eyes widened as she hastily turned around and searched for the detective but he was nowhere in sight. Wynter huffed in anger and dearly wanted to snap his neck in half. She felt her eyes smarting slightly but she convinced herself that it was merely her contacts aggravating her sensitive eyes and nothing else.

"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?" Wynter looked up to come face to face with a man wearing casual clothes. His hair was well kept (unlike a certain creeper she knew) and he seemed very sociable.

"Um, yeah. But it's okay. I was going to ditch the idiot anyways." Wynter grumbled underneath her breath as she silently thought of all the ways she was going to make Ryuuzaki pay for ditching her.

"Really? I think it's extremely rude for him to abandon a lady like yourself." His words were soothing as his warm brown eyes were expressively sincere. They were so shiny she could practically see her reflection.

_**Damn this guy's a smooth talker. A little too smooth . . .**_

Wynter's eyes narrowed in distrust, "What's your name?"

"Mine? My name's Daniel. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**WhiteLadyDragon****: Originally, I thought Lea would be the character that the audience would hate. But having received feedback, it seems since I added to her character (and made her more than just a cheerleader) she's less loathsome. I was rather surprised actually since I don't really like her very much (mostly because she's such a pain writing). Thanks for all your feedback!**

**Sakanascales876****: Lately, I've been feeling extra motivated to crank out chapters especially since my damn muse keeps dropping ideas on my head. And yes, Wynter is a stickler for abiding the law but only because it's her common sense talking. **

**ShardsOfTheCrystalHeart****: Now that you mention it, our characters do have a lot in common. That's quite the coincidence. The major difference is that Wynter isn't able to look into the Naruto and Bleach universe. But other than that, they do share a lot of similarities.**

¡Mija! ¿Dónde estás? – My daughter! Where are you?

Estoy en mi cuarto. - I'm in my room.

Tu papá y yo vamos a la casa de tu tía. – Your father and I are going to your aunt's house.

Regresaremos a casa mañana. – We'll return home tomorrow.

Bien. – Okay

**Which original character is your favorite? Please leave a review.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	10. Serendipitous Misadventures

There can be but little liberty on Earth while men worship a tyrant in heaven.

-Robert G. Ingersoll

Disclaimer: Your mom owns Death Note. [Cue immature giggle.]

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Serendipitous Misadventures<strong>

Lea couldn't decide what was stranger, her current quandary or the fact that Kira had been oddly possessive lately. He had been strangely territorial of her since Ashley and Jenna had visited her house earlier that day. He had even been keeping her close to him at all times and nearly cut off the circulation in her right arm. She had finally convinced him to get her a drink before slipping away to powder her nose and gain some much needed alone time.

In her current situation, she found herself face to face with a rather sickly looking man sporting sunglasses (something she found horridly tacky since it was obviously past sunset). His scrawny figure made her feel as though she was a morbidly obese sumo wrestler (Kira occasionally had the same effect but she merely played it off as a consequence of his god-like metabolism). He had to be some sort of male model for him to be that skinny but something told her that he would even put orphans from third-world countries to shame with his lack of muscle/fat. Lea also observed that he had a severe case of scoliosis which merely added to this anomaly of an existence. She was in a bit of an ordeal for this anorexic freak was blocking her path to the bathroom. She was slightly afraid that if she touched him that he'd turn into a pile of ashes. But on the other hand, she was annoyed by the fact he was obstructing the only unoccupied bathroom on that floor.

"Um, excuse me, but if you aren't going to use the bathroom would you _**please**_ move out of the way?" Lea used her best sickly-sweet voice and politely refrained from adding that she'd break his ribs if he didn't.

The hunchback of Not-Your-Sunglasses turned his head so slowly that Lea was worried that it would twist all the way around like an owl. She was unable to see his eyes because of his shades or even gauge his emotion. He was like the tin man but instead of being made of metal it was alabaster. Awkwardly, he shuffled away and Lea suppressed a shiver. She quickly hustled into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her as she securely locked it.

_**I hope I didn't just get another Facebook stalker.**_

Upon exiting, she cautiously stuck her head out and sighed in relief when she found no sign of hunchback anywhere. She sauntered her way towards the location that she had left Kira and searched for him. She made her ways through the empty hallways as the walls vibrated from the intensity of the music. Lea flinched slightly as she quickly turned her back and looked behind her. Her sense of uneasiness seemed to increase with each passing moment.

_**Calm down, it's not like someone's following you.**_

She desperately tried to convince herself that as her heels frantically hit the ground in her haste. Her heart was punching out of its confines as her pulse erratically pulsated throughout her veins. She was practically sprinting down the halls in paranoia despite wearing four-inch stilettos.

"Hello, Lea." A familiar, husky voice whispered into her ear as she felt arms cruelly ensnare her waist.

And Lea could only release a slight whimper as the fumes from the cloth numbed her mind as her consciousness faded into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"Daniel?" Wynter echoed in confusion as she tried to overcome her severe sense of déjà vu. Something about this entire situation felt awkwardly familiar.<p>

He merely nodded and smiled, causing her paranoia levels to rise to unhealthy levels. Why was she getting some seriously creepy vibes from this guy?

Wynter furiously shook her head; surely she had been spending too much time with Mr. Creeper and company. He was simply a perfectly normal high school guy not some psychic serial killer.

"What's your name?" Wynter suddenly felt as though she was on high alert. Her nerves were suddenly high strung and she felt extremely jumpy. Instead of butterflies, she felt as though centipedes were chewing out her intestines in her anxiety.

_**Calm down you idiot! It's only natural to give out names when mingling.**_

But she couldn't just freely give it out; there was a homicidal maniac on the loose that killed with a name and a face. It was be pure idiocy to give out her real name to a stranger that set her paranoia berserk. So she had to play it smart and avoid the question entirely.

"So, um, are you going to finish that?" Wynter timidly asked as she weakly evaded his question. She pointed at the plastic cup in his hand that she assumed was filled with alcohol.

"This?" He raised an eyebrow at her strange question but kept any other comments to himself. To her disgust, she realized that the cup was merely filled with fruit punch.

"What, no spiked fruit punch? No date rape pill? What kind of high school guy are you?" Wynter snapped.

"I'm in college actually." He coolly answered, highlighting the fact that Wynter's rude remarks hadn't deterred him in the slightest. It was rather disturbing for Wynter to witness his lack of reaction; she was sure that even Ryuuzaki would have at least given her a dirty look. But maybe she was only harboring ill thoughts towards him because she felt slightly jealous of his hair. It was so _**immaculately **_tamed that Wynter felt as though her wig resembled a hornet's nest.

"That just makes you a bigger pansy." Wynter snarled but nonetheless relaxed slightly. Astraea couldn't possibly be a guy that couldn't take hard liquor. And surely, no cold-blooded killer could ever have hair like that. How many hours did this guy spend grooming it into perfection? Four? Five?

"Daniel!" Wynter jumped at the shriek as both their attentions turned to a Mexican girl with thick, black hair in a super short red dress. She seemed oddly distressed and her eyes looked as though they would pop out and roll onto the lavish carpet. She began unleashing an onslaught of rapid Spanish and English mixed with expletives.

"What's the matter, Jenna?" He asked trying to calm the frantic girl.

"Lea! She's gone! Ashley says she can't find her anywhere and . . . _¡Mierda!_ You don't think that . . ." She screamed in hysteria.

"Calm down. I'm sure she's just in the bathroom." Daniel soothingly reassured the distressed girl and sure enough her frenzy mellowed out.

"Yea, you're right." Jenna murmured quietly as Daniel gently consoled her. Meanwhile, Wynter stood awkwardly since she was trying to find the right time to leave and find Ryuuzaki so she could later castrate him for abandoning her.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed an oddly hunched man wearing sunglasses conversing with a very tipsy blonde dressed in a miniskirt. No doubt, Ryuuzaki was recruiting more bitches for his brothel. Anger boiled within her veins and Wynter had the overwhelming urge to smash something into oblivion. How dare he ditch her for some bumbling blonde bimbo!

"Excuse me, I've got some castrating to do." Wynter muttered as she hurriedly stomped towards Mr. Creeper's direction. During her rampage, she stole a plastic cup filled with beer and quickly chugged it contents before smashing the cup in her hands and aimed it at the first idiot to comment on her thighs painfully nailing him the gut.

"So, um, I like your sunglasses." The giggly blonde guffawed.

"You!" Wynter bellowed as she purposely stomped onto his foot.

Ryuuzaki's face tightened into a scowl as he suppressed his obvious pain. Immediately, Wynter felt her own toe smashed beneath the sole of his ratty sneakers.

"Oh, is this your girlfriend?" The bubbly blonde in blue smiled as she swayed from side to side and her blue eyes glazed over.

Wynter and Ryuuzaki both instinctively froze. Wynter quickly shoved Ryuuzaki away and took a couple steps away from the detective while furiously shaking her head in refusal. She looked very much like a five-year-old that had just been warned of cooties.

"Who, in their right mind would reproduce with . . ." Wynter's face scrunched up as she contemplated gagging the blonde just to make her shut up. How many years in jail could she receive for participating in a kidnapping?

"'Cause I think you two look really cute together. Man, do I wish I had a boyfriend like him. Jenna said I couldn't have Cole 'cause Lea and him just broke up and all." The blonde burbled out sentences. Wynter stilled at the name "Lea", she glanced at Ryuuzaki who nodded.

_**This blonde's one of the girls from the stabbing!**_

"So, um, how long have you two been together?" The blonde's eyes glazed over as she began to lean forward precariously. Wynter caught her before she collapsed unto the carpet and propped her up against the wall.

_**Does anyone know how to hold their drinks around here? **_ Wynter rolled her eyes in contempt.

"You want to do the honors?" Wynter asked as she gestured towards the unconscious girl with a conspicuously disgusted face.

"No need. Miss Abel has already given me all the information I need." Ryuuzaki replied as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Wynter really wanted to rip that smug look off his face and maybe his sunglasses as well.

"Does this mean that we can go now?" Wynter moaned since she was more than ready to drown this night in vodka. This night was definitely one to erase permanently from her memory. Ryuuzaki nodded and Wynter quashed a squeal of glee. She quickly pulled on his arm and yanked him towards the exit when a strong arm grasped her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"It was nice meeting you." Daniel's voice rang as she realized that he was the one holding her wrist. Something about that look made every single one of her molecules scream in fright. Everything was screaming to get away, to run away, to be anywhere but here.

"Um, yeah." Wynter dully replied as she shoved her terrified feelings into a corner. She noticed that Ryuuzaki was staring Daniel down; his owlish eyes were locked onto his face but Daniel was unperturbed.

"Oh, is this your boyfriend?" He inquired as his eyes never left Ryuuzaki.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people?" Wynter shrieked as she hauled Ryuuzaki's body towards the nearest exit and silently prayed that she would live through this affliction with minimal emotional scars. She could only take so much insanity from Mr. Creeper and company; she didn't want to be corrupted by these half-wits especially since her sanity was already questionable as it was.

It was only until they both arrived by the car that Wynter finally remembered to breathe normally. Her knees nearly gave out and she quickly clutched Ryuuzaki's shirt to keep her balance. She slowly inhaled as she squeezed her eyes tight.

Wynter couldn't really remember the drive back home. She drove (at least, that was what Ryuuzaki told her) feeling extremely dazed. Everything was a blur of lights and sounds. She could see Ryuuzaki's lips moving but nothing was connecting. It was almost as though she was suffering with severe vertigo; she stumbled blindly towards the mansion door that Ryuuzaki had to steady her with his own arm.

She ignored Mello's comment as she clumsily sprinted towards her room and bypassing Near and Matt without a thought. She was about to throw herself at her stash of alcohol when she noticed Rufus curled up at the corner of her room lying upon a random blanket she had bought during her shopping spree. Surprisingly, the ancient cat hadn't been awakened by her noisy entrance which was strange seeing as he was notoriously a light sleeper. She felt a pang of concern stab her heart as she tiptoed her way towards the sabertooth/cat hybrid.

"Rufus, what's wrong?" Wynter whispered softly.

She knelt down and stroked the cat's head only to find it ice cold. Her hand began to shake uncontrollably as she numbly registered tears leaving streaks upon her cheeks.

Rufus was dead.

The thought echoed emptily inside of her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Does anyone else feel that I use dialogue excessively? I've been trying to stop doing that, which would explain the much longer paragraphs than last time.**

¡Mierda! – Shit!

**WhiteLadyDragon: To be honest, Juanita's a bit of guilty pleasure of mine. I had no intention of making her so dynamic but the idea slapped me one day and poof! Jenna's identity crisis was born. I've always wondered about the logic behind coulrophobia but I will not deny that there are some creepy clowns in this world. Ryuuk, for example. **

**ShardsOfTheCrystalHeart: I'm glad that she elicits such a reaction from you. Maybe she'll get to the same level as Light soon, but I wanted to highlight the humanness of her character. **

**RandomNinja239: Thanks so much for reviewing; it means a lot to me! I'll keep working on character development; I'm so sick of writers using flat characters with predictable backgrounds.**

**Katamabob: Thanks for telling me about the "yea" issue. I'll keep an eye out for it when I edit the future chapters. To clarify, Wynter is her first name. I'm sorry that the plot is confusing but hopefully all will be answered within the next two chapters. But this is definitely an AU, so I'll probably have to bend some rules. I'll give you a hint: would Light really let Lea know the extent of his powers? Would L really be completely honest with Wynter?**

**Any theories on who kidnapped Lea? Please review.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	11. The Forever Pious Sinner

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

[The more things change, the more they stay the same.]

+Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr

Disclaimer: If I owned Death Note, why the hell would I be writing fan fiction in the first place?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: The Forever Pious Sinner<strong>

To say Jenna was skittish would be a dire understatement. The girl was a mess of nerves and shaken to the core. It probably didn't help that Ashley had passed out during the middle of the party which forced Jenna to look after the stupid blonde. If there was any trace of Juanita left in her, it was her loyalty to her friends. Though she loathed the idiot for a good measure, Jenna could not find it in her heart to simply abandon the girl. Sure, Ashley was a selfish airhead that lacked common sense and would get completely drunk without even considering the consequences but she was Lea's friend.

Before Astraea, there was Lea. And before Lea, there was nothing.

Jenna owed her entire existence to Lea and she would do anything for the girl. Lea had saved her from the abyss that was her loneliness. It was because of Lea that Jenna had other friends. It was because of Lea that Jenna wasn't a loser. It was because of Lea that Jenna was even relevant to anything. Without Lea, Jenna wasn't quite sure where she would be in the world and truthfully she didn't even want to know.

This was why Jenna was still frantic despite Daniel's reassurances. It had been nearly two hours since Daniel had attempted to comfort her fears but they had only continued to grow. It was about three hours and numerous phone calls later and she hadn't found Lea. Jenna was seconds away from calling the police.

The party was winding down around 2:00 A.M. though there were still some rabid drunks screaming at the DJ to continue cranking the tunes. Jenna was extremely exhausted; she had avoided drinking alcohol since she knew she would be the one to drive Ashley home.

"Jenna!" Jenna jumped in surprise and swirled around to meet Daniel. His brow seemed furrowed in concern and his lips were drawn tight with worry.

"What, Daniel?" Jenna quickly replied.

"Have you seen Lea?"

"I haven't seen her since she left for the bathroom hours ago." Jenna nearly scowled at him.

_**I told you so. **_ Jenna muttered to herself. Why hadn't Daniel just believed her in the first place?

"Do you think that she left with someone?" His lips turned into a perfect frown and Jenna thought she saw something flash in his eyes.

"She would have told us and . . ." Jenna began to babble.

"Jenny!" Ashley shrieked as she rolled off the couch Jenna had placed her on.

"What is it, Ashley?" Jenna didn't even try to mask her utter contempt; the blonde was still drunk and annoying as always. She hadn't even bothered to say her name right.

"Are you talking about Lea? 'Cause I think I saw her hanging with some guy near the bathroom." Ashley burbled as she began to giggle to herself.

"Did you recognize him, Ash?" Jenna asked in a softer tone as she hoped that they would be able to pull some significant information from the drunken blonde. Hopefully, Ashley would be able to calm Jenna's fears.

"Um, it was hard. He was wearing this baseball cap, what was it? Uh, Giants? Anyways, they were getting awfully close and stuff." Ashley began to hiccup softly as Daniel and Jenna processed the information.

_**What idiot do I know that loves the Giants? **_ Jenna began to massage her temple as she tried to ignore Ashley ridiculous giggling.

"Do you remember anything else, Ashley?" Daniel piped in quietly.

"He had, like, spiked hair. I think he's in my Spanish class. Oh, and that he's like in love with Lea. What's his name again?" Ashley tried to remember as she listed random names.

"Donovan." Jenna muttered with a frown.

"Yup! That's the one." Ashley nodded in agreement for she was blatantly happy that she was of some use.

"Donovan?" Daniel inquired.

"Her self-proclaimed stalker." Jenna answered through gritted teeth.

* * *

><p>The sudden flood of light burned Lea's eye sockets. She flinched as she realized she was on someone else's bed in a foreign room that she didn't even remember entering. A rush of fear spiked her veins as she felt herself slip into anxiety.<p>

_**W-was I raped? **_ The question echoed in her head.

"Surely you think better of me than that." A voice grunted as it emanated from the far corner of the room.

Lea squinted her eyes and saw a brunette youth with brown eyes slouching from a chair and observing her intensely. She would have recognized those brooding eyes anywhere.

"What the hell are you doing, Donovan?" Lea barked as she tried not to let her fear make itself known.

Donovan had always been the class freak and Lea worshiper. During middle school graduation, he had proposed to her in front of all the students and staff. Lea had been mortified and avoided him like the plague. He had been rather . . . zealous with his affections but he always had the right intentions. She would have never have guessed for him to sink this far. She stared into his smiling eyes with trepidation. If he had finally snapped because of her rejections, who knew what he was capable of?

"I see the Princess got her beauty sleep." He smiled as he rested his chin in the palm of his hands.

"I can get you arrested for harassment, you know that? Now get me the hell out or I'm calling the cops." Lea quipped as she folded her arms; her previous fear was now replaced with sheer disdain.

"Ah, but then I'll have to let the cops know your dirty little secret." He smirked.

"What shit are you spouting now?" Lea replied furiously.

"The Homecoming Queen is in cahoots with Astraea herself." Will answered innocently in a sugary sweet voice.

_**How does he know? Who told him? **_

"Who?" Lea kept a blank face.

"Oh, don't pull that shit on me. That acting may work with the cops but it doesn't with me. After all, who knows you better than me?" He frowned slightly.

"Seriously, who the hell is that? Is she one of your ex-girlfriends?" Lea continued with her little charade not wanting to give in.

"Fine, okay, you don't know her. Then I'll just tell the police that Astraea stole your IP address and messaged one of her head fangirls on your computer." Donovan shrugged slyly.

_**Fuck, he has evidence.**_

"Has it ever occurred to you that I've been framed?" Lea nearly screamed in frustration.

"Look, I don't really care if you keep denying it but I want to help." Donovan continued as he ignored her comment.

"I want to join you." He said as he stared at the floor.

"What?" Lea blinked in confusion.

"Maybe your beautiful eyes have always ignored it, but I've always been bullied my entire life. Fuck, Lea, do you know how many times I wanted to kill myself? But it was you that would bring me back."

Lea was silent since she was unsure what to say. His words were like daggers of ice stabbing her soul.

"Remember when I proposed to you in the eighth grade? And everyone laughed and laughed. People are cruel, Lea. And Astraea has finally decided that it's time to cleanse this dirty world since God has abandoned us."

Lea wanted to scream at him but her eyes drifted to the knife that lied on his desk inches away from his chair. Was he planning on killing her? But wouldn't that go against his morals? If he praised Astraea on killing the bad, then why would he kill her? What had she done that . . .

"Cole, that goddamned bastard, was the worst of the entire gang. He never failed to make me feel like shit every fucking day. But then Astraea answered my wish! That idiot's six feet under and the world has one less barbarian." His voice was filled with a disgusting glee that made Lea's stomach knot.

_**Cole is dead? How did that happen? **_

"What do you mean?" Lea's voice whispered in disbelief.

"Babe, you didn't know? That idiot died before going to Frankie's party. Totaled his car and died instantaneously." Donovan guffawed as though it was the most hilarious thing in the world.

"This whole thing has made me realize something."

Lea was too afraid to ask this time as she watched him pick up the knife and meander towards the bed she was occupying.

"You know what, Lea? I think I love you even more now that I've figured out you're Astraea."

* * *

><p>Kira cursed extensively under his breath as he accompanied Jenna to Ashley's house. They both had decided it would be smarter to dump the blonde somewhere before going out to search for Lea. He practically had the steering wheel in a choke hold as he expertly tuned out Jenna's panicked ranting.<p>

After he conquered this pathetic world, he was going to kill the King of Death. It was because of that insolent king that they were in this predicament. The King of Death had granted him access to this world along with an extra Death Note but had refused to bestow the Shinigami eyes to him. He was the most powerful being on Earth but he was practically blind. He could just imagine the ancient being and that conceited Armonia Justin Beyondormason laugh at his own misfortune. Essentially, he was as invincible as a god of death but he was unable to kill without knowing the person's name beforehand.

There was also the matter of meeting Ryuuzaki at that blasted party. He had recognized his adversary from the very beginning but because of that damned king he couldn't immediately murder him and quash any resistance to his journey to the throne. This fact added along with Lea's kidnapping left him on edge and pissed as hell.

"Jenna, how much do you know about Donovan?" Kira found himself asking as they drove away from Ashley's mansion.

"W-what?" Jenna quickly snapped back to reality as Kira felt the sudden urge to roll his eyes. He was starting to miss his partner already even though she had went and gotten herself kidnapped.

"How much do you know of her 'stalker'?" Kira repeated trying not to let his contempt show.

"I've met him a couple times. He's been following her around for years but it's never been anything this bad. I mean, yeah, he's been all over her since the seventh grade but it's always been . . . I don't know. Innocent, I guess." Her humanness was revolting to Kira. Lea would have at least made a better attempt to hide it. Jenna was open like a book; she didn't even try to hide her inner thoughts or intentions.

"Do you have any idea where to start looking?" Kira asked as they waited at a stoplight.

"We can go to his address and look there." Jenna murmured as she wiped her palms on her dress.

The drive to the address was chaperoned by a reciprocated silence that would be broken by brief directions given by Jenna. Jenna was a mess and Kira simply didn't want to associate with the woman so they had both stayed quiet. Jenna's directions finally led them to a mansion typical of the area. The only peculiar thing about the mansion was its location. There were no other buildings to be seen for it was located upon a cliff. The nonexistent lights cast a foreboding sense of gloom but Kira paid no heed.

He was going to make this buffoon understand that no one steals from a god.

Kira rolled his eyes when he watched Jenna walk up towards the front door as though she was some blasted Girl Scout. He made his way to the back entrance and left Jenna to her own moronic devices. When he reached the immense garden that decorated the backyard he noticed a light on in one of the copious rooms on the second floor.

He patiently waited as he felt himself become invisible and willed his molecules to disperse themselves. Despite his lack of Shinigami eyes, Kira still had many of the powers Shinigami enjoyed such as walking through walls and becoming invisible to humans that hadn't touched the Death Note. He was also able to make himself visible to those that had never touched the Death Note. He supposed it was a side effect from when the King of Death had granted him permission to take over this world.

Kira moved through the walls with ease and soon found himself on the inside. He was about to make his way upstairs when a loud thump resounded through the relatively empty building.

* * *

><p>Donovan laughed heartily at her scared expression.<p>

"C'mon now. You didn't really think I was going to kill you, did you?" He chuckled as he shook his head. He had knocked over the chair and thrown the knife at the headboard of the bed, narrowly missing Lea by a few inches. All Lea could comprehend was her plangent heart that was beating erratically.

"It would go against everything that Astraea goes for. I just thought I'd scare you for all those times you had rejected me." He mused as he picked up the chair from the ground.

"What do you want, Donovan?" Lea's voice was hoarse as she felt the fear take over her body.

"What do I want? It's simple, Astraea. I want to help you. Look, I'll untie you now okay? I'm sorry about that but I knew it was the only way to bring you here." Donovan's words were soft and it made Lea want to believe that he hadn't completely lost his mind but it was too late for that. Once he untied her, she was going to make a break for it.

"Let's say your absurd hypothesis is correct and I am Astraea. What makes you think I won't kill you since you've so kindly kidnapped me?" Lea's resolve was returning as she reminded herself that she had the ability to kill the man where he stood.

"I'll be your eternally loyal minion." Donovan blurted out as he began to untie her.

"What?" Lea arched an eyebrow at his idiocy. Did he think she was some twisted heroine and that he would be her sidekick?

"I mean if I was able to trace Astraea through the IP address the cops will too. I'll help keep your identity a secret and in return you'll let me help you."

Lea pondered for a couple of seconds before answering him, "If I was Astraea (not saying that I am) how far would you go to prove your loyalty?"

"I'd kill myself." He replied somberly as he loosened the knot around her hands. Lea rubbed her wrists when the rope was relieved from her hands. She stared Donovan in the eyes as she gauged his emotions. He was being perfectly serious about everything and the fervent adoration he had for her was a refreshing change from Kira's disparaging eyes.

But he was naïve, just like she once was. He had no idea what he was getting into. He wouldn't fully comprehend the repercussions of his loyalty. If he did become her minion he would be denied that blissful ignorance that everyone else had. He would never be truly allowed to live once she disclosed her secret. Donovan was a sweet guy though with some serious lapses in logic and reason. Was it within her right to condemn him to a life filled with murder?

Lea stared at the lacerations on her wrist to Donovan's pleading eyes. And for a split second, she swore his brown irises had been replaced with a rusted burgundy. He looked so similar to Kira yet he was so ineffably different.

Was this how God felt when he heard the pleas of his followers?

"Let me help you." Donovan whispered as the last pieces of rope that once constricted her movement were pulled away. She couldn't help but to think about Kira. What would he say if she confided their secret to Donovan?

_**Did Kira ask when he chose Jenna as a follower? **_ That thought repeated bitterly as she thought back to when Kira had first informed her that he had chosen Jenna to be their first follower.

_**Kira and I are equals. **_She tried to convince herself. They were partners. Weren't they?

"Okay."

Lea's insides screamed when she felt Donovan pulled her into a hug as he thanked her repeatedly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**Katamabob: I'm sorry about the miniscule LxLight interaction, but it wasn't time for that just yet. And for Wynter's drinking problem, it's how she deals with her problems. Just think of it as a fatal character flaw. But don't give up hope until you read the epilogue.**

**Fantastic unicorns: Thanks for the review!**

**WhiteLadyDragon: It did hurt to kill Rufus but it was necessary to some extent. I plan for this story to have many twists and turns.**

**The New Vampire: Thanks for the review! And don't worry; I have no intention of not completing this story. It pains me whenever an author does that to their own story. I'd rather they butcher the ending than simply not finish it.**

**Sakanascales876: I sympathize with the AP exam hysteria :( **

**Nah, Rufus is not a character that I would simply kill off but Cole is another story. Just kidding, I love all my characters. **

**Any thoughts on Donovan? Please review.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	12. Eulogies and Bleeding Skies

The love that kisses with a homicide / In robes of red generation resurrects.

-George Barker

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: Eulogies and Bleeding Skies<strong>

The car ride with Daniel was like walking in hell barefoot. Jenna felt as though her stomach was on fire and impaled on sharp spikes. The look that Daniel would give her made her nerves twitch. She couldn't possibly understand where this **fear **came from. Daniel was a nice guy; he had even offered to drive Ashley home before they start looking for Lea and Donovan. This was why the looks of sheer hostility surprised her. Every glance, every freaking glance, felt like a punch to her abdomen and the agony did not end there because during her manic state she began wondering whether she was simply imagining his scorn since she was running on empty as it was. The tension within the car was so dense that she was drowning in it.

And then there was her vexation about Lea's kidnapping. Her thoughts began to blur together and found it increasingly difficult to listen to Daniel's questions. When they disembarked from the car, she swore she felt her own heart implode as fear strangled her lungs.

The dew on the front lawn moistened her feet that were exposed to the dank pre-dusk air. It was still pitch black at nearly 3:00 A.M. and Jenna could see the faint outline of her exhales in the darkness. The moon watched overhead and in the distance she could hear the pitiful cry of a lost bird. Needless to say, Jenna the fearless had been replaced with Juanita the coward. When she finally reached the front door, she paused and glanced behind her only to see that Daniel had disappeared. Jenna muffled a shriek of horror and disbelief. The bastard had left her to fend for herself even when a possible homicidal teenager was on the prowl.

Hesitantly, Jenna stared at the doorbell.

* * *

><p>Lea was absolutely convinced that some higher power just loved to watch her grovel in the face of misfortune. Because during her awkward hug with Donovan, Kira had chosen to burst through the door in a hero-like manner only to find her embracing another man. Kira looked positively murderous (well more than he usually did). His pupils were lethal crimson and his jaw was set into a sheer grimace. Kira's eyes were fixated directly onto her face and his face failed to soften when he noticed that she was free of any restraints.<p>

Lea quickly shoved Donovan aside and began to brush the wrinkles out of her dress. At first, Donovan pouted at her cruelty before settling his glare onto Kira. Lea felt the sudden urge to facepalm and knew full well what would happen if Donovan chose to challenge Kira to a masculinity contest. If Donovan had an **iota **of intelligence whatsoever he would wait quietly while she explained the delicate situation to Kira.

"Who the hell are you?" Donovan spat.

Lea briefly wondered if it was possible to strangle someone with a gaze alone. She began to curse extensively under her breath as she watched Kira's gaze shift towards Donovan.

"Who am I?" Kira began to grin as Lea felt a chill scrape her back and gooseflesh formed on her arms. She was torn between saving Donovan from Kira's wrath and allowing him to die from his own stupidity.

She chose life.

"Um, Daniel meet Donovan. Donovan meet my** boyfriend **Daniel." Lea quickly blurted as she desperately tried to avoid a reenactment of a World War. Although a small part of her was silently proud that she was able to claim Kira as her own.

"Boyfriend?" Donovan's brow furrowed as Kira retained his sharp grin.

"Daniel, Donovan has been expressing some interest in Astraea." Lea uttered shakily as she quietly held her breath.

"I see." Lea stiffened at Kira's statement. She began to wonder if she would be safe when he finally unleashed his wrath upon Donovan.

Donovan drew his face into a scowl, "Wait, does this fucker know that you're . . ."

"Actually, 'this fucker' is the very person that gave Astraea her powers." Kira smiled psychotically.

"Wait . . ." Donovan was interrupted by the obnoxious chime of the doorbell. Lea watched Kira roll his eyes in frustration but didn't move.

"Donovan, why don't you go see who that is? If it's Jenna let her in." Lea softly directed him.

"Does she know?" Donovan asked.

"She's . . . involved. Now go." Lea answered and watched as Donovan stomped out of the room.

When Donovan left the room, Lea felt the stifling silence that was patiently hiding in the background. It didn't take five minutes of Kira's gaze for Lea to crack. When she opened her mouth to speak, he shook his head.

"Lea, while I am surprised that you did not kill him, I know that you must have had your reasons. I just hope the reasons are worth the consequences."

"Daniel, he **knew**. He already knew that I was Astraea. Donovan's a computer prodigy; he was able to pierce the firewalls on my laptop and discover that you messaged Jenna. He promised he would erase the evidence and protect our secret. What was I supposed to do?" Her words exited her mouth haphazardly and stumbled into each other. She was about to continue babbling when Kira placed a finger on her lips directing her to quiet down.

"Perhaps we may find him useful." He replied thoughtfully. Lea began to tremble and immediately his arms encircled her waist. Lea rested her head upon his chest and shut her eyes, trying to savor the fake affection he was showering her.

The impromptu embrace ended quickly when they heard the steps on the staircase. Donovan soon entered the room with Jenna trailing behind. Upon noticing Lea, the girl clamped her into a tight embrace all the while muttering words of relief. When Jenna finally withdrew her arms, she quickly turned to Donovan and began to curse at him loudly.

"_¡Hijo de puta! _What the fuck were you trying to accomplish? _¡Chinga tu madre! _ C'mon, Lea, let's go." Jenna began ushering Lea out of the room but Lea refused to budge.

"Yeah, piss off Jenna." Donovan replied.

This time Lea had to hold Jenna's elbows to keep Donovan from having his ass handed to him by a chick.

"Jenna," Lea gently murmured, "There's something I need to tell you."

"You mean you haven't told her yet? Shit, look's like someone's insignificant." Donovan teased only adding gas to the wildfire.

"What haven't they told me?" Jenna nearly screamed at him.

"Jenna, I'm Astraea." Lea said.

Lea observed Jenna's eyes widen in confusion but what she found hiding in her pupils shocked her.

Fear.

* * *

><p>Mello found Wynter curled up in a corner of her ridiculously enormous bedroom sometime around 4:00 A.M. Her eyes were wide open and identical to Ryuuzaki's owlish stare. Although she had discarded the wig, her dark hair was extremely unkempt. She had even failed to take off the make up and dress she had sported to the party earlier that night.<p>

"What the hell are you doing, bitch?" He gruffly asked her.

Silence.

"Slut, you speak when spoken to." His eyes narrowed dangerously but Wynter's blank expression had yet to change.

Silence.

"You whore, if you don't fucking answer I swear even Ryuuzaki won't be able to save your ass." His face was absolutely livid and his trigger finger twitched dangerously.

Silence.

"You have three fucking seconds to answer 'till I shoot your pathetic ass." His eyes narrowed and he tautly drew his face into a scowl.

Silence.

His insults and threats escalated but Wynter declined to respond. Eventually, Mello's eyes drifted to the cat's body which was lying haphazardly on a blanket. Instantly, he understood the situation. The damned cat had died.

Mello was not sympathetic nor was he understanding. He knew people often mourned the loss of loved ones, even if those loved ones were not people, but this did not mean the bitch was excused from ignoring him like this. Mello didn't care whether she screamed or cursed at him so as long as she acknowledged his presence. He got some sort of high off her underlying fear and was prone to stroking his gun whenever she was near. Mello blamed it in on the fact that he had been forced to lie low and could no longer get his kicks as he normally would. Matt had called him a sadist and Mello only smirked while chuckling.

Because Mello was a misanthropist with a superiority complex, of course he had sadistic tendencies. He was a shameless schadenfruede and boastfully proud of it. He was cruel, he was barbaric, and he didn't care what other thought of him. There were very few that Mello tolerated and even less that he actually gave a shit about.

Wynter wasn't one of those few. If she hadn't been so crucial to this case, Mello was sure that he would have mutilated her corpse by now. He knew if he did anything drastic he would have Ryuuzaki scolding him while Near would sit prettily looking like the fucking angel he pretended to be.

He wouldn't let Near win.

So, Mello chose to hold his anger and left the room. Unleashing his rage on Near would not have nearly as many consequences as releasing it unto Wynter. He silently cackled as he cracked his knuckles in a grotesque display of strength and brutality.

Because Mello was a sadist and the world needed balance.

* * *

><p>Wynter sighed when the cross dresser finally exited the room. Her gaze shifted towards Rufus' cadaver lying a few feet away. Her hand fumbled for the cell phone Ryuuzaki had given her and numbly dialed a number only to listen to the tinny sound of a metallic woman claiming she had committed a mistake in dialing the number.<p>

Great-Aunt Hilda wasn't picking up.

This could only mean that she wasn't home and since the woman did not possess a cell phone it would be impossible to reach her. Wynter thrust herself unto her feet and ignored the pins and needles in her legs.

Rufus would need a decent funeral.

As she walked by her vanity table, she noticed her smeared makeup and rumpled clothing. Her eyes were red from crying and her tears had left trails upon her cheeks.

Wynter still wasn't sure whether she had been crying for Rufus or for herself. Rufus' death had definitely been huge blow to her sanity. Rufus was her only souvenir of her strange childhood. He had been her comfort when no one else understood her dreams. She still had the scars when he scratched her for crying on his fur.

It had certainly stung, but his brutality had taught her to become stronger and keep her tears to herself. Rufus had mentored her when her parents didn't. Her parents had chosen to ignore her nightmares and anything else that didn't adhere to their love of conventionality.

She rummaged through her closet for a large shoebox and a soft, fleece blanket. Gingerly, she draped the blanket around Rufus' dead body before placing it into the cardboard box. She left the box open for she felt uncomfortable placing the lid on the box and confining the body in its makeshift coffin.

When she walked through the headquarters, no one seemed to notice her. Mello continued to terrorize Near while Matt obsessively tapped away at his Nintendo DS. The only one that acknowledged her presence was Mr. Creeper and he only paused briefly before continuing to gaze at the computer monitor.

She dug his grave in the roses.

The soil was the softest there. Ignoring the ache in her knees and the dirt under her nails, the shallow grave was built within a short time.

The sky was bleeding as dawn emerged.

She carefully placed the box into the grave and paused as she watched the sunrise. Wynter slowly buried the box, patting the soil when she finally finished.

Wynter numbly registered a hand on her shoulder and sluggishly turned around. It was Mr. Creeper with his hands shoved into his pockets and face void of any expression whatsoever.

She took some reassurance from his usual appearance. She briefly wondered if Ryuuzaki would ever change his ways. She wondered if Ryuuzaki would ever not be the eccentric detective the world had relied on. Wynter knew that he would never change. He was stubborn that way.

Rufus' eulogy was silent as Wynter placed a rose on the patch of dirt.

Some things never change.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**WhiteLadyDragon****: I suppose that Donovan is Misa to some extent. And no, I have no intention of bringing Misa into the story (not that I have anything against her). As for Light's sudden possessiveness, it was mostly a shout out to any of the LightxLea fans out there. But honestly, Lea is currently a valuable asset to him so her kidnapping would pose as a huge threat to his plans. Thanks for reviewing Tyme!**

**Katamabob****: Donovan was actually rather difficult to create. In fact, at the time, I had no intention of creating another OC. In an earlier draft, the kidnapper would remain nameless and be killed off by either Lea or Jenna. I'm glad you picked up Lea's reluctancy to actually kill.**

_¡Hijo de puta! _- Son of a Bitch!

_¡Chinga tu madre! _ - Fuck you! (Literally: Fuck your mom)

**Public Service Announcement****: I have created two new one shots: Tyme and Orison. Tyme describes the encounter between Wynter's grandmother (her namesake) and Quillish Wammy. Orison is a collage of point of views and consists of Ashley, Jenna, Donovan and Ryuuzaki. I would greatly appreciate it if you check them out. Thanks for all the support!**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._**  
><strong>


	13. Shot Glasses and Teacups

Love is merely a madness and, I tell you, deserves as well as a dark house and a whip as madmen do.

-William Shakespeare

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

**Warning: I strongly recommend reading my one-shots ****Rayne**** and ****Orison**** to make sense of this chapter but hey it's your choice.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Shot Glasses and Teacups<strong>

It was bright, she supposed, outside. But within the headquarters, she felt the chill of a morgue accompanied by lethargic dreariness. The others were hard at work, or at least that's what it appeared. Ryuuzaki was eternally roosted in that blasted swivel chair of his; she was sure that the insolent clicking of his keyboard was slowly driving her mad if she wasn't already.

The fear she once held for him had dissipated into a twisted sort of loathing. Everything he did, from how he held his teacup to his monotonous speech, simply burrowed deep under her skin.

It wasn't fair how he could simply give her an impassive stare and it would send her neurons into overdrive.

He was like an itch that you couldn't scratch.

Or a scab that your mother told you not to pick at.

But you'd pick it anyways because you simply **had** to.

Just the thought of him in the same room irked her very core. Even if he wasn't doing anything especially irritating, she found herself getting aggravated and hot-tempered.

His very existence threatened her vulnerable sanity.

She clutched the glass tightly.

**Sanity.**

But what of his sanity?

Wynter blinked in wonderment.

Ryuuzaki must have been normal at some point, right?

Even she had some "normal" days as a kid despite her deranged childhood. Surely, he must have because everyone had to be kid once.

He still bit his thumb, something she regrettably found adorably repulsive.

And he had quite the sweet tooth. Come to think of it, she had never actually seen the man eat anything **but** sweets. She briefly questioned his dental history. Half the man's fortune must have gone to his dentist while the other half was spent on sugary desserts.

She stared intently at his back, uncaring if Near and the others caught her.

Was it possible for him to have ever been "normal"? The man wore the same thing every single day: a long-sleeved white shirt, worn blue jeans with his feet void of any socks. He despised shoes; she had realized when she observed his constant awkward fidgeting.

Not to mention his social awkwardness. Even though Wynter knew she wasn't the prime example of social normalcy, Ryuuzaki was in a league entirely his own.

How could a man so intelligent be so ignorantly insensitive and so self-centered?

If he wasn't bluntly criticizing her stupidity, he was rubbing his intelligence in her face. If it was possible for someone to gloat in nearly every sentence they ever stated, Ryuuzaki had perfected it to an art form. It didn't help that the presence of his "successors" only augmented the swelling of his over-inflated ego. He took great pride in ordering his "bitches" around.

"_Oh, is this your boyfriend?"_

The blonde had been drunk, so obviously her logical reasoning was inexplicably compromised; at least, that's what Wynter kept telling herself. There was no way the blonde would make the same statement sober.

He was pig-headed and petulantly childish.

He was a sexist pervert.

He only ate sweets.

He was probably spawned in a laboratory on Mars for heaven's sake.

But at the same time, Wynter couldn't help but wonder if the man was more human than detective.

If she touched him, would she find flesh or alabaster?

If she cut him open, would she find a heart of blood or simply an empty void?

If she hurt him, would he cry tears or leak fluid?

Wynter blinked when she realized she had been holding an empty shot glass in the air for over five minutes. She set the glass down quietly and rested her head on the cool wood of the kitchenette table.

Some part of him must be human, even if that small part was overwhelmed by the numb, aloof mentality he possessed. He had comforted her even when she had slapped him; he had reassured her when Rufus had died.

Or his presence had reassured her at least.

Despite his numerous shortcomings, Wynter knew that it was best that Ryuuzaki never changed. The world needed a man like him.

She thought back to when she had asked him of his obsession of justice.

She had been surprised at his benevolent confession.

His character had been so noble and undeterred by his flaws.

He would die a martyr, she realized, for all saints did. Gooseflesh appeared on her arms as if she had been caught by an icy wind. She shivered slightly, unsure of whether it was the thought of Ryuuzaki dying or the circumstances.

The world needed Ryuuzaki even if he didn't need the world.

* * *

><p>Ryuuzaki felt the distinct feeling of someone boring holes into the back of his head. If he had been someone other than himself, he would have turned around to identify said person. But, being the analytical genius he was, he already knew.<p>

The said person was undoubtedly drowning herself in another glass of vodka and cursing him under her breath. Ryuuzaki hesitantly paused as he contemplated the probability of Ms. Wynter passing out from her alcoholic activities.

When the room was absent of the sound of glass hitting wood, he glanced at her reflection on the computer monitor to his far right. Her head was slumped onto the wooden surface and her dark hair masked her face. Her quiet breathing was gentle and natural.

He understood that it was not socially acceptable for someone to slip into an alcohol-induced coma at 10:00 A.M. but he was not that judgmental. Despite criticizing her alcoholism, Ryuuzaki knew that alcohol was to her as sweets were to himself.

Asking her to stop drinking would be like asking someone to stop breathing. Not only would it be impossible, it would be rather silly and obstinate.

Regardless of her constant whining and reoccurring disbelief of his habits, she had adapted into his team rather well. Her daily bickering with Mello was common routine as were her sisterly threats towards Near to stop leaving his goddamned toys everywhere lest she shove one up his nose. She was the only one that had ever scolded Matt for hacking into government databases.

She had actually tried to force him to eat something healthy which backfired horridly.

Although she constantly exclaimed that she could care less for all of them, Ryuuzaki thought she had an odd way of showing it. She had grown attached to them; she had gotten used to the organized chaos of their crew.

And guiltily, he could confess the same.

It was a rather strange feeling to know that one had a place.

A place that one more or less belonged.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt on the matter.

He glanced back at the reflection of Ms. Wynter on the computer monitor.

He caught himself wondering about the content of her dreams.

If she was dreaming about that unborn sibling again.

He wondered if she ever thought this much about him as he did her.

She was repulsed by him, that much he observed. She avoided his glances and his gaze. Whenever she spoke to him, her statements would often end in questions especially if she wasn't yelling at him. In fact, it was only when Ms. Wynter was hollering at his eardrums that she looked directly in his eyes. When her voice rose several octaves and her face would flush in livid fury, her normally numb persona became irrevocably alive with anger.

Perhaps that was why he often made her angry.

He gained an odd satisfaction from knowing that he was the one to instill this emotion, this life into her; even if the woman screamed like a banshee without her voice ever wavering. It was atypical for him to have the desire to elicit such a reaction from a person. People, women especially, never seemed to capture his interest for long and simply another reason why he only accepted cases that he believed to be a challenge to his intellect.

He had never put much thought into the opposite sex. He understood female anatomy and other hard data but conversing with one was another story. He had associated with many police officers (albeit remotely) and this included female ones. Ryuuzaki was still a man after all, and he still had urges but he was a firm believer in mind over matter.

Not to mention he had the social skills of hermit.

It was peculiar for him to be surrounded by others and even death hadn't lessened its bizarreness. He would never truly become accustomed to it, but that was perfectly copacetic.

* * *

><p>It was strange; the way Wynter could never tell when she was dreaming.<p>

Take her current supposed dream for instance, she found herself back in her claustrophobic single-bedroom apartment in Utah.

No Mr. Creeper.

No insane cross dresser.

No silent albino.

And no clicking of a Nintendo DS.

Just Wynter.

She knew it wasn't real because she remembered downing a glass of vodka and resting her head on the wooden table. But did she just imagine that as well?

She found herself staring into the bathroom mirror; she was dressed for work at the café a couple blocks away. Her eyes were void of any bags and certainly were far from bloodshot.

Had she simply dreamed Mr. Creeper up?

Had everything just been another hallucination?

Did she really imagine everything?

She bitterly shoved the sudden turmoil away.

The café lacked the hustle and bustle of a famous coffee shop a couple doors down but it had a certain vibe that calmed people. Not to mention the drinks were not ridiculously priced nor did it boast anything organic. It was simply another down-to-earth café that sold honest pastries and a decent cup of Joe. It was a favorite among the locals and unknown to the tourists.

Wynter was the only one working that shift. The café was void of life besides an artsy-fartsy couple that was busily critiquing each other's masterpieces in the far corner and a balding woman reading a knitting magazine.

The boredom nibbled slowly at her sanity. She was so accustomed to ongoing chaos caused either by herself or Mello that this tranquil serenity put her on edge. Wynter impatiently drummed her fingernails on the counter, not really caring whether she was disturbing the patrons or not. The jingle of bells forced her to jerk her head upwards and the sight before her jolted her drowsy conscious.

Because standing, not slouching mind you but **standing**, before her was undeniably the face of Ryuuzaki.

Ironically, he was sporting sunglasses but a much more fashionable pair. His shirt was not a pasty white but a modern screen tee. His eyes were absent of bags and his skin was a healthy hue not some repulsively sickly color.

_**Dear lord, is he wearing . . . shorts?**_

Wynter choked on whatever sanity she still possessed. His hair was much tamer and did not look as though he had just gotten into a wrestling match with a hairbrush and sculpting gel.

He looked . . . normal.

_**That's not Ryuuzaki.**_

It couldn't possibly be him. This man was simply another look-alike. He was probably his long-lost identical twin that hogged all the normal genes. That would also explain why her Ryuuzaki was such an oddball. This guy took all his conventionality. Wynter sighed in relief; she wasn't crazy, this guy just looked way too much like Mr. Creeper.

She found herself smirking at her momentary lapse in logic. The Ryuuzaki doppelganger instantly smiled back as he mistakenly interpreted her smile was for him. Wynter suppressed a near gasp; it was just abnormal how much he looked Ryuuzaki.

_**Is that how Ryuuzaki would look if he actually smiled?**_

"Excuse me, Miss, but could I sample your tea along with some strawberry shortcake?"

Wynter bit back a giggle. It was odd how, of all his characteristics, his English monotone remained.

"Sure, do you want one slice or two?" She grinned.

"Two, please." He answered after some contemplation.

"One spoon of sugar or two?" She quickly asked as she made his tea. Since this was merely Ryuuzaki's clone it would be impractical to assume he would consume the same amount of sugar as well.

"Three, thank you." He slipped off his sunglasses as he settled himself into a stool near the counter. The Ryuuzaki doppelganger sat normally not the way Mr. Creeper always did.

She couldn't resist unleashing a chuckle and failed to oppress it. He pouted at her which only increased her fit of giggles. The clone actually thought that she was laughing at **him**; he couldn't possibly be Ryuuzaki, there was no way he would ask for only three spoons of sugar and sit like a normal human being.

"I'm sorry, it's just that you remind me of someone." She quickly explained.

"Oh, your boyfriend perhaps?" He blinked and Wynter couldn't help but stare into his eyes. His eyes were empty. Void of the bitterness she had always seen in Ryuuzaki's gaze but they were also lacking in the intelligence and wisdom that Ryuuzaki possessed.

_**What the fuck is up with people nowadays? **_

"Uh, no. Just a . . . friend, I suppose." Wynter bared her teeth.

"Sorry if I offended you, it's just that a pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend. It's a little hard to believe that you're single."

Immediately, Wynter choked on her own spit. Her hacking continued on for a few minutes until she finally was able to still her nerves.

_**Is this clone flirting with me?**_

Pfft, there was no way in hell that this guy was Ryuuzaki.

Ryuuzaki had the flirting skills of a dead raccoon.

"Are you alright, love?" His mouth was drawn in concern as he looked her over.

"Just shoot me now." Wynter muttered underneath her breath. Why the fuck was God doing this to her? Hadn't she gone through enough trauma in her miserable life? What had she possibly done to deserve this?

"Pardon?"

"Uh, your tea's ready." She quickly replied trying to mask her verbal faux pas.

"So, what's your name?" He asked as he sipped his tea.

"W-wynter." She cursed her hesitation; Astraea and Kira obviously didn't exist in this dimension.

"That's a unique name." He quipped. Wynter wondered if it was considered harassment if she dumped hot tea on this clone's shirt.

"Thanks. And you? What's your name?" Wynter questioned.

"Surely you've heard of me. I'm in town for a presentation of the inner workings of the human brain, Dr. Lawliet." Wynter snorted at his cocky arrogance; yup, this was definitely Ryuuzaki's clone alright.

"Doctor? As in you've got your doctorate already?" Wynter arched an eyebrow. He looked much too young to have gone to school for that many years. He was probably only a few years older than she was.

"I was a child prodigy; I've been in several tennis tournaments as well as chess." Wynter resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"And what of you?" He asked as he shoveled another piece of cake into his mouth.

"Nothing special. I'm a college student working to repay her student loans, no big deal." Wynter shrugged as she wiped the counter; the pseudo-Ryuuzaki quirked an eyebrow before scoffing.

"Surely that can't be the case." He murmured as he nibbled on his scone.

"It can and it is." Wynter grit her teeth as she silently dared for him to comment. Ryuuzaki's doppelganger wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

"I do believe that we must have met sometime prior." His voice was muffled as he chewed his cake.

"What? I've never seen you before in my life." Wynter quickly lied as she diverted her attention to a fly soaring overhead.

"Perhaps, but my memory is impeccable; I never forget a face."

"How can you forget something you've never seen before?" Wynter deadpanned.

"That is true." He nodded as he ate the last crumb of his shortcake.

Wynter watched passively as he got out of his seat and began walking towards the exit. He coolly donned his sunglasses as he hesitantly opened the door; a flood of bright light entered the somber café and Wynter squinted her eyes to shield them from the piercing light.

"It was nice meeting you, Wynter."

_**Ms. Wynter**_

_** Ms. Wynter**_

_** Ms. Wynter**_

Wynter froze when she heard the clone recite her name casually.

If this was merely Ryuuzaki's look-alike, why did it feel so wrong to hear him say her name without its usual pseudo-honorific?

If this was merely Ryuuzaki's clone, why did it feel as though the world had one less defender of justice?

As if the world had one less saint.

As if a significant speck was missing.

"Wait!" She heard herself cry and the fake Ryuuzaki quickly spun around in confusion.

Why was she crying out if this man wasn't Ryuuzaki?

If this man wasn't the Mr. Creeper she openly despised?

If this man was simply a doppelganger, not the real deal?

"Yes?" His unfaltering answer replied.

"Um, how do you feel about justice?" Her timid question remained in the air for far longer than necessary.

"Justice?" His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, "about the same as everyone else, why?"

"No reason." She responded. His mouth twitched and he shook his head in amusement before exiting into the brightness outside, leaving Wynter in a state of severe inner turbulence.

Her face slumped onto the café counter.

Why did the world feel so much emptier with one less alias?

She shut her eyes as she pondered the state of the world without its greatest detective.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

** WhiteLadyDragon: I agree, Mello is not merely a sadistic misanthrope; his character is much more complex than that. **

** Katamabob: Juanita would never completely die, no matter how much Jenna believes it. And this chapter should probably answer your question about an alternate universe Ryuuzaki. I had a blast writing him.**

** Sakanascales876: I'm rather curious to whether I should keep this story humorous or plunge it into something dismal. I believe that contrast is important; in fact, I always tire from writing the same style over and over. That's why I like switching points of view so much.**

** Iggy4eva: Thank you for the love. I hope the changes between perspectives are fluid. Some people actually don't like the constant changing of perspective so I'm glad that you do.**

** The New Vampire: Thanks for the review! I hope you enjoyed Wynter's perspective.**

** This chapter as well as the few after this will deviate from the usual plot. Think of it as a filler arc.**

** Please critique my attempt at fluff. Criticism on Ryuuzaki would be much appreciated.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	14. The Enfant Terrible

I believe in nothing/

Not the day and not the dark/

I believe in nothing/

But the beating of our hearts.

-"This is War"by 30 Seconds to Mars

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: The Enfant Terrible<strong>

"Wyn!" A female voice shrieked causing Wynter to lose her composure and slide off the counter onto her derriere in the process. She looked up and saw her stout boss, Martha, towering over her with a motherly look in her eyes.

"Sonuva—" Wynter held her tongue for she knew full well of the lecture she'd get for cursing in front of her uptight employer. She also cringed at the use of the dreadful nickname she always seemed to pick up wherever she went.

Martha gave her scathing look before continuing, "Honey, your shift's been over for nearly half an hour and I'm not paying for overtime, you understand me?"

Wynter's eyes widened in untainted astonishment. Had she really been lost in her thoughts for that long?

_Ryuuzaki_. But Ryuuzaki didn't exist so why was she still thinking about him?

_Astraea. _If Ryuuzaki didn't exist, didn't that also mean that Astraea didn't either?

Wynter nodded before scrambling towards the door and into the fresh air. The sun hung lazily in the sky and its rays were felt through the ridiculous apron Martha insisted that all her employees should wear. Her uniform clinged to her body like gum on an old shoe and she felt dazed as she strolled down the streets of her city. Her feet carried her aimlessly until she was staring at her apartment building from across the street in hesitation.

Where was this turmoil coming from?

Why wasn't she happy? She wasn't dreaming of her unborn sister for once or some desolate dimension in which humans were animals. So why this feeling of bitterness? She wasn't normally this self-aware during her dreams. Her dreams were often like movies except she was the lead actress as she numbly performed her role.

She felt like some idiotic palooka as she just stood there, wasting oxygen and time. What the hell was she doing? Why was she just standing there? She commanded her limbs to move but they were super-glued to the pavement and her brain was running marathons while her sluggish body refused to comprehend.

_Is this real?_

_Or is this another dream?_

_Was that Ryuuzaki or just some clone?_

_Am I still alive or am I dead?_

_If I am dead, this sure is some fucked up after world._

_What kind of fucked up dimension is this?_

And why the hell wasn't she moving?

_And why—_

She wasn't able to finish her thought as a car nailed her square in the hip and she flopped to the ground like a fish without a tail.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God! Are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you—" The voice was extremely irritating; it felt like someone was slicing her ears with a rusty cheese grater.<p>

She grunted just so that whining, chipmunk voice would shut its pie hole. Her eyes cracked open and blinding light greeted her. When Wynter finally fully exposed her eyes to the light, she came face to face with a rapidly mumbling blonde. It didn't help her sanity when the light framed the crown of her head with a translucent halo.

Wynter groaned as she tried to sit up. Other than the blinding pain she felt in her left leg, she discovered that all her limbs were still functioning. She'd just have one hell of a bruise on her left thigh.

"I'm so sorry! I was—"

"No prob." Wynter replied as she gritted her teeth for she desperately wished for this blithering blonde to shut up. She suppressed another groan as she cautiously picked herself off the ground and leaned against the car hood for support.

The blonde seemed to blab some words of protest but Wynter ignored her. Great-Aunt Hilda didn't raise a crybaby.

"Here let me take you to the hospital." The blonde proceeded to grasp her arm and Wynter reflexively flinched away from the contact.

"Look—" Wynter paused as she waited for the girl to supply her name.

"Lea." The girl answered and Wynter nearly choked in surprise. What were the odds that this girl was the Lea from her reality?

"Look, Lea. I'm perfectly fine. I'm a little banged up but fine. If it makes you feel any better this actually isn't the worst experience I've had with a car." Wynter shuddered as she thought back to Mello and his driving skills.

"But—"

"I'll let you drive me to the university, how's that?" Wynter relented.

"But—"

"Look, I don't want any trouble. It'd be a huge favor if you drove me there. See, I can walk fine." Wynter calmly walked from the hood to the door as she tried to minimize her limp. She cursed her wobbly gait as she looked into Lea's green eyes. Lea hesitantly nodded as she gestured her into the car and within minutes the pair were on the road.

"So, um, what were you doing?" Lea murmured as she clenched the steering wheel.

"I was . . . thinking." Wynter reluctantly answered. She tapped her fingers on her less injured leg impatiently.

"If you were thinking, why the hell were you doing it in the street?" Wynter scowled at the girl's smart aleck reply.

"Ever get the feeling that you know too much?" Wynter asked offhandedly as she gazed out the window and at the cloudless sky.

"What?" Lea raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, have you ever experienced déjà vu? Like you remember doing the same thing a million times but no one else does?" Wynter hastily rephrased.

"Uh—"

"On second thought, never mind." Wynter allowed for another overly-pregnant pause as buildings flashed by.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a familiar face?" Lea asked quietly as they waited at a stoplight. Her brow was furrowed in confusion and Wynter refused to tear her gaze away from the window.

"Yeah. Been told that a lot actually." Wynter smiled.

"So, um, are you a student here?" Lea's voice seemed to quiver slightly.

"Yeah, I have to head to a lecture. You?" Wynter asked nonchalantly.

"I'm here for a cheerleading tournament." The girl visibly brightened.

"Oh, where are you from?" Wynter casually questioned.

"California." What were the chances that Lea Reynolds and this Lea were both from California?

Wynter swore extensively under her breath.

"What's the matter?" Lea's face was drawn in concern.

"Ah, nothing. I just remembered something unfortunate."

Their conversation continued for nearly twenty minutes with Lea doing most of the talking and Wynter answering bluntly. Apparently, this Lea loved to gloat about her accomplishments. And what she loved more than boasting was complaining about her incompetent boyfriend and her half-wit friends. All in all, Lea was a normal human being. There wasn't anything blatantly malicious about the girl. There was no way she could possibly be Astraea; the girl was much too commonplace and mundane.

All of Wynter's previous thoughts of the girl were shattered when a car sharply cut them off. The amount of spite that erupted from the girl would have been terrifying if Wynter hadn't already been acquainted with Mello.

"Hey, Lea, maybe you should calm—"

"Hell no! That fucker deserves to go to hell and back." Lea spat.

"Maybe he was just running late or something. That doesn't necessarily mean that he deserves eternal damnation." Wynter rolled her eyes at the girl's petulance. Why was she throwing a tantrum over something so trivial?

"Well it should. It's because of idiots like him that . . ."

Wynter expertly tuned her out as she processed this new information. Maybe Lea had some anger issues. Okay, maybe she had a lot of anger issues but she probably just had road rage or something.

"In fact, all those who break the law deserve to die. That's why death row is so important . . ." The girl continued to rant.

_Wait, say what now?_

Wynter blinked. Okay, so this Lea obviously had some aggressively psychotic tendencies with some serious lapses in morals but that didn't necessarily mean she was Astraea's counterpart in this dimension. _Right?_

"Um, Lea, what's your last name?" Wynter blurted out without thinking.

"It's Reynolds. Why?" She stopped mid-rant.

"Just thought we should exchange insurance, you know." Wynter shrugged.

_Shit._

_ Didn't Ryuuzaki say Lea's last name was Reynolds?_

* * *

><p>Wynter was acquiring a plethora of strange looks as she limped into the building she presumed the pseudo-Ryuuzaki was holding his lecture. She had finally been able to shake off Lea who had been following her around like a lost puppy once the pair had reached the university.<p>

At first, she wasn't quite sure why she had asked Lea to drive her to the university but she was beginning to understand. If this dimension was merely a mutated copy of her reality, then the two should have many similarities despite the obvious differences. That meant there was a damn good chance that the Ryuuzaki clone had a lot of commonalities with the original Ryuuzaki. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to squeeze some answers from this one.

The room was dark since she had arrived halfway during the lecture and she chose a seat near the back. She sighed in relief as she propped her leg up against the seat in front of her. The lecture hall was almost filled to the brim; in fact, the only empty seats were the two measly rows at the very back where she was.

The Ryuuzaki clone was putting her to sleep with his accented English. She had effectively tuned most of his presentation out as her thought wandered.

Was this really Ryuuzaki's counterpart? If so, what decision had led him to pursue a doctorate instead of becoming a detective?

What had happened to the justice he always preached about?

And what had happened to his successors?

What had led this clone to stray from sainthood?

"Excuse me, Miss. The presentation is over." A voice jolted Wynter from her musings.

"Oh." Wynter murmured as she began to get up but unfortunately she had forgotten about her recently acquired injury. She accidentally placed too much weight on her injured leg causing her knee to buckle and her body to topple over in a heap.

"Are you alright, love?" A familiar voice inquired.

How many times had she heard that today?

"Uh, yeah." Wynter nodded as he helped her to her feet.

"You're Wynter from the café, aren't you? Well I certainly wasn't expecting you." Instantly, a smirk came to the clone's face. Wynter was vaguely aware of his hand on her wrist and the heat that seemed to emanate from it. This Ryuuzaki was much warmer than the real one.

"Well, your presentation just sounded so . . . interesting so I decided to check it out." Wynter replied rather quickly.

His smirk intensified, "I'm glad to hear that. In fact, I'm free at the moment. Why don't you join me for some ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" Wynter echoed. Did this clone still have Ryuuzaki's sugar fetish?

"My throat always feels rather sore after presentations so I've found ice cream is a great cure." He answered without missing a beat as he directed her towards the exit. She hurriedly hobbled after him in haste.

"What happened to your leg?" His gaze was locked on her left leg.

"Uh, rabid cat attack?" Wynter quickly lied.

"Strange land, America." Ryuuzaki muttered.

"What about your hometown? No rabid cats?" Wynter deadpanned.

"Of course not. The house cats in England would never dream of attacking a fly let alone a person." The Ryuuzaki clone rolled his eyes as he chuckled softly.

_Would Ryuuzaki laugh like that?_

"England?" Wynter asked. She had always suspected it but it made her chest swell knowing her deductions skill didn't suck as bad as she previously thought.

"Born and raised." He answered rather sullenly she noticed.

"What's the matter with England?" Wynter frowned but internally she could feel the anticipation, maybe she'll finally dig some dirt on the mysterious Mr. Creeper.

"Nothing. Just too many bells." The pseudo-Ryuuzaki shrugged.

"Excuse me?" Wynter narrowed her eyes.

"I mean too many belles. You know, petty girls? The ones in America seem a lot more comely." Wynter did not enjoy the look he gifted her once he said that particular sentence.

"You don't seem to like your homeland very much. Trouble with the family?"

"Don't have any." He said it so casually as though it was commonplace for someone to not have parents.

"What?" Wynter faked her surprise. Ryuuzaki had told her about his caretaker so she had just assumed that he never had any parents.

"I was orphaned at a young age." His monotone continued.

"Then who took care of you?"

"I was adopted by a well endowed family with connections."

_Wait, what happened to his caretaker Wammy? _

"Before then?"

"An orphanage in Winchester directed by an insufferable man named Roger." Wynter bit back a laugh; this Ryuuzaki pouted just like the one in her reality.

"Wammy?" Wynter thought out loud.

"Pardon?" He held a look of confusion on his face.

"I mean, wow that's a double whammy. The typical Cinderella story, eh?"

"I suppose you're right." He stared intently at her for a few moments and his lips upturned into a slight smile.

They finally reached the on-campus Baskin Robbins™ and it was then that Wynter realized that Ryuuzaki clone had not let go of her wrist since their stroll. Immediately, Wynter was hyper aware of the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. Her hand fidgeted nervously and relief flooded her when the clone released his grip to open the door.

The store was well lit and practically empty excluding the employee slouching against the counter while reading a magazine. She watched the doppelganger walk up to the glass and stare affectionately at the array of flavors; his finger briefly shot up to his mouth before he awkwardly put his hand away.

_Some habits die hard._ Wynter thought as her lip quirked slightly as she stared at his back absentmindedly.

After receiving their respective ice creams, Wynter caught the employee staring at the two from the corner of her eye. The employee had been giving the Ryuuzaki clone supposedly furtive looks every now and then; it was rather curious that the doppelganger had yet to notice. But seeing as he was Ryuuzaki's clone, it was no surprise that he gave the ice cream more attention than his surroundings.

"So, tell me about England. How was your foster family?"

The Ryuuzaki clone blinked and Wynter realized that perhaps she had been a bit too straightforward and tactless.

"Um, I mean—"

Ryuuzaki shook his head to indicate he took no offense, "Are all American girls this straightforward?"

"No, that's probably just me." Wynter looked down at her strawberry sundae as she sheepishly smiled.

"Well, it was rather uneventful. At a young age I skipped multiple grades and attended a private school . . ."

"Did you ever consider pursuing something else?"

"I suppose at one point I did want to become a professional tennis player. And what of you?"

Wynter sighed before confessing, "I used to dream about joining the circus."

She shot him a scathing look when he snorted in his ice cream.

"No, no. It's just that it suits you is all." He held his arms up in surrender as he tried to placate her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wynter scowled.

"You don't seem to be the type to become a ballerina or teacher. I commend you on your originality. So what specific profession did you want in the circus?"

"The psychic." Wynter cringed at the irony of it all.

"Ah, did you have an obsession with the clairvoyant?"

"No I just like the mystery of it all, you know? You could never quite tell whether it was simply an illusion."

The Ryuuzaki clone scoffed, "What mystery? They were simply old superstitious hags."

"Superstitious hags that could potentially damn your soul to hell." Wynter countered.

"Old wives' tales and nothing more! I don't believe in the supernatural."

"A skeptic, huh?"

"I grew up reading Sherlock Holmes as an infant; there is a logical explanation for everything."

_**Logical explanation my ass.**_

Wynter merely smiled and shook her head, wondering how this particular Ryuuzaki got so naïve. It was peculiar how ordinary this Ryuuzaki was from his real counterpart.

"If you idolize him so much, why didn't you become a detective?" She quipped.

"Because justice is overrated." The clone shrugged.

Wynter's jaw detached and made a rattling noise as it hit the table.

"Elaborate." She demanded.

"I don't see myself as that stereotypical superhero bringing justice to the unjust; it's too cliché. I'd rather benefit humanity another way through medicine." He shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

"But you would be able to help others through detective work as well." Her eyes scrutinized his facial expressions.

"We only live for a lifetime. The work I am currently doing will progress far after I'm gone. As a detective I would only be assisting others until I retire. Besides, the system's much too corrupt nowadays and I make good pay now." He replied rather offhandedly.

Wynter stared at the melting pink blob that was her strawberry sundae in dismay. This new Ryuuzaki was so apathetic that it stung; it stung because she knew that this was how everyone else felt. Ryuuzaki had been one of the few to care so much about his moral values to the point of petulant stubbornness. His greatest characteristic was also his most glaring flaw. He had been so obsessed with his justice that ostracized himself from anything human and thus the world's greatest detective was spawned.

Wynter wondered if this Ryuuzaki was happier than the other.

Was this Ryuuzaki contently ignorant by choice or apathetic to the point of no return?

If this Ryuuzaki truly cared about "others" or was he obsessed with himself?

As these questions echoed inside, Wynter no longer felt the urge to eat.

* * *

><p>"I say I aim my gun at her." A snotty voice stabbed the dark silence.<p>

"Mello, we simply wish to wake Ms. Wynter not potentially kill her." A young monotone criticized.

"I wasn't going to actually shoot her. I'll use blanks, how's that?" Wynter could imagine the voice rolling its eyes.

"Do you even have blanks?" A calm voice asked.

"Shut up, Matt." The voice growled.

Wynter struggled to lift her heavy eyelids but eventually was able to see the light. She found herself back at the headquarters and back in reality. Mr. Creeper's successors were standing near her as they (Mello) argued how to wake her up. Wynter unleashed a scratchy yawn and stretched her sluggish limbs. Fidgeting, she touched her left leg and found it completely unscathed.

_So it really was a dream._

"Nice of you to join us, Ms. Wynter." Wynter glanced at the man crouching in a swivel chair and promptly she felt her lip quirk.

An unnamed emotion seemed to yank at her heart and the glow of relief set a tingle through her body. She could still feel the underlying bitterness deep within her but she couldn't help but smile at the man.

At the Ryuuzaki that had chosen justice.

Petulant justice over humanity.

That fact made her feel slightly less hollow inside.

"Nice to be back, Ryuuzaki."

His owlish eyes didn't blink and Wynter imagined him cocking his head to the side in confusion.

But she didn't see confusion in his eyes nor emptiness but just untainted bizarreness; the kind of bizarreness that most people would involuntarily flinch at.

She saw that type of self-righteousness that few would dare to possess. She saw that secretly infantile streak he held within him. She saw his every idiosyncrasy and every outré trait.

Because in this world, Ryuuzaki was the fool and she was none the wiser.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** I must thank everyone that has reviewed/favorited this story. I still can't believe this story has gotten 1,000+ hits. Thank you!**

**I must mention that my updates will be extremely sporadic since I have no idea whether I will have access to a computer during these upcoming months.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	15. The Art of Repentance

Would you bleed for the fantasy?

- "The Fantasy" by 30 Seconds to Mars

Disclaimer: Don't own and never will.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: The Art of Repentance <strong>

It had been three days.

Three days since Lea had last seen Jenna or Donovan.

Three days since she had been kidnapped.

Three days since she had invited Donovan into their cult.

And during those three days, Lea had done nothing but laze around the house and wonder why fate had chosen to screw her over. What had she done to deserve this fate?

"Lea?"

It was Jenna's voice. She was sure of it. Her voice still held the trace of fear she had last seen in her eyes. Lea unblinkingly stared up at the pale ceiling of her bedroom while wrapped in a cocoon of sheets. Kira had wisely chosen to leave her alone for the past few days.

"Lea, are you alright?"

Was that a faint stutter that Lea detected in Jenna's voice? A slight twinge of hesitation and a hint of the accent she had foresworn? Lea had felt dirty when she had seen the fear in Jenna's eyes. Did Jenna think of her as a murderer?

"Yeah." She lied. Her voice was muffled since she hid behind a pillow.

"Donovan's been asking to see you. Can you tell him to shut the hell up? I've had enough of his stupid whining, it's giving us all a headache." Jenna yawned as she sat on the edge of Lea's bed.

"Didn't sleep?" Lea asked as she shifted to make room.

"Neighbor's dog keeps barking. I think it's a Yorkie or something." Jenna shrugged as she stifled another yawn.

Lea was silent as she mulled over Jenna's lie. Jenna's neighbors hadn't had a dog for nearly over ten years; Lea would know since she had been invited to the funeral.

_Why is she lying to me?_

"Are you going to Cole's funeral?" Jenna's voice sounded raspy to Lea. As if Jenna had a dire thirst that she never quenched.

"I guess so." It had been Cole's mother who had asked her to come. Cole's mother had been the team mom and always chatted with the cheerleaders on the sidelines during the games. She was a sensible woman albeit headstrong. Lea had respected her despite her failure of a son.

"When are your parents coming back?" Jenna asked absentmindedly.

"I don't know." Lea's answer didn't really sadden her so much as it was irritating. Her parents had developed an unhealthy habit of leaving suddenly without even leaving so much of a note or explanation. It wasn't as though she was incapable of taking care of herself but still a warning would have nice from time to time.

Were all parents like this?

Wasn't this what every teen dreamed of?

No parents and a house all to themselves.

Why did it feel as though she was drowning in the emptiness?

* * *

><p>She wore the same black dress to every funeral. Normally, Jenna would have complained to her mother about this. That she couldn't possibly attend Cole's funeral in the same garment her<em> abuelita<em> had made her over a year ago. But something just wouldn't feel right about shopping for a funeral dress, so she was stuck with this one.

Her mother had started crying when Jenna had told her of Cole's death. Something about how it was so sad that a young man like him would never be able to reach adulthood and how terrible it must for Mrs. Anderson to lose her _hijo_. She began to recount this time when someone had lost a son in her village and Jenna had chosen to tune her out. She had enough of sadness for one day.

She kept the same solemn face she had reserved for church at the funeral.

Thankfully, the ceremony was not open casket. Jenna wasn't quite sure how she'd be able to keep the surge of emotions from exiting through her mouth. The sun was shining and the sky was naked; the weather obviously failed to acknowledge that there was one less son in the world.

The eulogies were long but heart-wrenching. Jenna was glad for the excuse to cry as she felt tears stain her face. Lea, usually so reserved, had been crying since before the ceremony. She had been quietly sniffling on Daniel's shoulder for the past half hour.

And the _imbécil,_ Donovan, had chosen to crash the ceremony as well. At least he was wearing appropriate attire for the gathering, Jenna would have reprimanded him otherwise. The slob was astonishingly well dressed though Jenna snidely knew his mother probably picked up out his clothes. His face was uncharacteristically stoic and void of any arrogance. For some reason he kept glancing at her from time to time. By the umpteenth time, Jenna was ready to rip the his eyeballs out of their sockets when the idiot had finally mustered to courage to ask her if they could talk privately under a nearby tree.

Her prior anger vanished as it was replaced with inquisitiveness.

"What do you want, Donovan?" Jenna had to will the malice to return in her voice.

He grinned and, as a result, her curiosity perished. He was such an ostentatious little prick; if he wasn't so necessary to their cause he would be at least twelve feet under by now if not more.

"Surprised to see that you're taking everything so calmly, Jenna." He enunciated every syllable of her nickname so harshly it was as though all his teeth were about to fly out of his mouth.

"I could say the same for you." She spat but inwardly she froze. Had he really seen right through her church face? Had he taken a glimpse at what was inside of her? Did he know that she killed Cole?

"I'm not. In fact, it's taking all my self-control not to dance on his grave. I don't see why Lea's wasting her tears on that bastard. But maybe it's because she doesn't know the truth." He put this falsely thoughtful look on his face.

"I don't understand." She replied softly.

"Of course you don't, Jenna. It's never really your fault, now is it?" He adopted this sing-song voice as he tried to imitate her.

"I didn't kidnap Lea." She quipped.

His face darkened and he grit his teeth.

"But I didn't kill Cole, now did I?" He quickly calmed his temper and continued to smile once more.

"Are you accusing me?" Her voice was low and she placed her hands on her hips.

"Why would I accuse you if I know it's a fact?"

Jenna lashed out at him but he caught her wrist with ease.

"Now, now, Jen. I'm not going to scold you. That sonuvabitch deserved to die. I'm only a little sore that you beat me to the punch, m'kay? But that's not the only thing I wanted to tell you."

Jenna scowled as he felt his grip tighten around her wrist. She fought against him but it was no use since he quickly overpowered her.

"I think Daniel was the one that told you kill Cole." His warm breath violated her earlobes and she stifled shudder. Her eyes widened in confusion.

But Astraea had ordered her to kill Cole.

There was no way that Daniel could have possibly . . .

"Why?" She murmured.

"When I told Lea about Cole's death, she was genuinely astonished. She had no idea that Cole had died; she couldn't have possibly ordered his death. Unfortunately, Cole had not committed any crime other than being a complete ass so someone else must have directed you to kill him."

She had killed an innocent. Jenna's body involuntarily twitched.

She had killed an innocent.

She had murdered an innocent.

Her knees buckled but Donovan propped her up against the tree.

"Daniel." Her voice cracked.

Donovan nodded, "It's obvious that he's manipulating Lea. He doesn't care about justice or injustice but she can't see that. Something must be done."

Jenna shivered at the implications, "You mean . . ."

"I'm asking you for a favor because I know that I can't do this alone. Repent your sins and help me kill Daniel." His voice was firm.

Feverishly she nodded her head in agreement. She'd do anything to remedy her sins.

_Una vida por otra._

* * *

><p>"Ryuuzaki, what did you slip in her drink? She's been acting weirder than usual." Mello accused as he bit off another chunk of chocolate.<p>

"I did no such thing." Ryuuzaki calmly replied as he pawed through several more files in front of him.

"Ms. Wynter has not digested any alcohol for the past 72 hours and she has spent most of her time outside by the creature's grave." Near's monotone sounded as he glanced at the puzzle piece in his hand before putting it in its place.

"Sorry to interrupt your in-depth psychoanalysis of my brain, but could you at least have the courtesy of talking about me when I'm not in the flippin' room?" Wynter growled as she slammed the cupboard door of the kitchenette.

"So, as I was saying, what did ya slip her?"

Wynter groaned in frustration as she stomped out of the room and outside to the gardens. She had spent most of her times sitting beneath the tree near the rose bushes and contemplated whether she should inform Ryuuzaki of the dream. She had decided that it was rather pointless since it contained little to no information about the case at all and she wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to think about pseudo-Ryuuzaki anymore than was absolutely necessary.

She had stopped drinking; for some unfathomable reason, she didn't have the heart to down another shot. Maybe it was because Wynter had finally realized that the fastest way to finish the case would be not to hinder her psychic abilities any further. If she gained more knowledge about the case then Ryuuzaki and company should be able to arrest the culprits with no further need of her services. That and she had a reoccurring nightmare that she would need a kidney replacement later on in life.

As she took refuge underneath the shade, she took out the cellphone that Ryuuzaki had given her. She wondered where Great-Aunt Hilda could be if she wasn't home in Utah. Had she noticed that Rufus was missing? Knowing the old bat, she probably wouldn't until she realized the absence of cat puke in her shoes.

Sighing, she dialed the number and was once again greeted by the tinny voice.

Wynter scowled as she drew her knees to her chest.

_Where the hell is that woman?_

There was one other person who would know where she was. Well two actually.

Wynter shook her head. She wouldn't grovel. She would never stoop to that level.

But she was desperate, her need to talk to Great-Aunt Hilda was dire. Wynter wanted to know if she knew anything else about grandmother's powers. She frowned as she realized that she had no other choice. She clenched the phone in her left hand and she dialed the number.

"Hello?" A soft voice answered.

"Hi," Wynter voice lowered, "it's me, mom."

* * *

><p><strong> abuelita – term of endearment for grandmother<strong>

** hijo – son**

** imbécil – imbecile **

** una vida por otra – one life for another**

** WhiteLadyDragon: Guess you'll just have to wait and see, huh?**

** Katamabob: I'm glad you like my fluff. It isn't exactly polished so I was worrying that I would be the only one that would think it was cute . . . **

** Excuses: I've been busying myself with Paranoia Agent and Hakushaku to Yousei. I highly recommend them both, though the latter is stuffed with so much puke-worthy fluff it's ridiculous. I greatly enjoyed Paranoia Agent, though I nearly stopped watching it because of the fillers.**

** Does anyone have any good anime they would recommend? I'm in a slump and need some inspiration . . .**

** Favorite line of this chapter? **

** Review.**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	16. Blood and Water

An ounce of blood is worth more than a pound of friendship.

-Spanish Proverb

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: The Blood of Kin<strong>

All Wynter could hear was the quiet breathing on the other end of the line. That quiet rasping noise coming from the very woman that birthed her.

For a few seconds, Wynter almost thinks that her mother forgot who she was. Wynter believes that her mother doesn't remember that she has a twenty-two year old daughter who she hasn't acknowledged for nearly half a decade.

She still has time to hang up and pretend that this call never happened. That she never needed to call her mother in the first place. Does she still have the right to even call her that? Mother?

"Wynter, it's been so long." Her voice was hesitant; as though her mother just realized how awkward the situation is.

It's been exactly 6 years, three months, and 2 days but Wynter certainly wasn't keeping track.

"Yeah." She wondered if it's too late to hang up now.

"So, how's it going?" Wynter wanted to laugh at her mother's benevolent effort to make conversation with the same daughter that she disowned but it comes out as a wheezy noise.

"It's been . . . going." For now, Wynter's imagining her mother's reaction if she told her that she's been kidnapped by transvestite accompanied by an albino, a gamer and a sweet-eating creep. Would she still laugh and tell her that she has a wild imagination?

Or would she be like Dad and tell her that she's too old for this game?

Cue another pause. Their conversation hasn't lasted for two minutes and they've already run out of things to say.

"Look, Wynter, if it's about your father . . ."

"No, Mom. Can you just give me Great-Aunt Hilda's number? I keep calling her house and she hasn't been answering." Wynter cut her off, not wanting to open that can of worms again.

"Oh, well, I think she said something about attending a tournament in California." She could see her mother nervously tapping against the wooden counter in their house back in Utah. She'd always do that whenever she was on the phone.

_That would explain how Rufus ended up in the Golden State of all places._

"I can give you the number of the hotel she's staying in."

"I'd appreciate that, thanks." She wondered if her mother was still bitter about what happened. If she regrets how everything ended or if she's happier pretending that she doesn't have a lunatic daughter that has nightmares about imaginary things every night. She wondered if her mother missed the sleepless nights and the closed doors; if she still valued her reputation more than her daughter's sanity.

Wynter recited the number of the hotel a number of times until she's sure that she won't forget.

"Wynter, I . . ."

She hung up and nearly threw the phone at the ground but caught herself in time. She knew full well what her mother had intended to say next. It was the same lecture she gave her whenever she did something that didn't sit well with her mother. It didn't even necessarily have to be wrong. And after each lecture, her mother would apologize as though she sincerely believed it was her fault. That it was her fault for how Wynter turned out. As though she was to blame for the nightmares and the rift in their perfect life.

Maybe it wasn't fair that Wynter blamed her mother for everything she did in reality or her dreams. Truthfully, she still hadn't gotten over her parent's infatuation with her younger sister. The younger sister that would never exist in this reality but in every other.

Her name was Natalia. Natalia was perfect. Natalia was everything Wynter wasn't.

Natalia would be spoiled to the core but still generous.

Natalia would be honest while obscuring all truth.

Natalia was the contradiction.

Was it possible to be jealous of someone that didn't really exist?

She wondered if Natalia would think she's crazy as well.

Wynter could still remember when her parents first realized that the nightmares weren't a phase. That the nightmares were never going to stop.

Her father had always been a quiet, honest man. He had a respectable job, a respectable wife and child, played golf on Saturdays and took his wife out on anniversaries.

He was also the first one that told Wynter that her dreams were lies. That she wasn't really dreaming and it would be best that she simply kept everything to herself.

She didn't start noticing the little signs until it was too late. She didn't notice the way her mother would look away. The way her father stopped acknowledging her even when asked a question.

She was eleven when she started confiding her dreams to Rufus. She wouldn't do the same to Great-Aunt Hilda until much later.

For the most part, kids in school didn't tease her. Sure she was picked last for kickball but that was only because she sucked, right? She befriended the girl across the street and they would talk but it wasn't the same. You couldn't ask a friend to kiss and make it better.

She was sixteen when her parents told her that they were sending her to Great-Aunt Hilda.

Her mother had tried to sugarcoat it, but her father bluntly stated that she was disowned and that there was nothing else to it.

And so her father was able to correct the only blemish on his mantle in one fell swoop.

And Wynter pretended that she didn't have any parents.

* * *

><p>The drive back from the funeral was silent not that Lea expected otherwise. She had been able to use Daniel as a handkerchief for the better part of the ceremony and part of her was proud. But for the majority she was empty. She had long run out of tears both fake and true. Now all she could feel was the overwhelming fatigue she had been pushing away for too long.<p>

"Kira?" They were alone in the car and Lea, for the most part, was tired of acting.

"Yes?" His tone wasn't eager necessarily but it didn't sound irritated either. Lea gulped as she drew the courage to ask her question.

"How did you die?" She held her breath in anticipation.

"By the hand of the Death Note." His voice was unwavering. He wasn't perturbed by the discussion of his own death. Was there anything that would make him lose his air of serenity?

"Is that how I'm going to die?" The glass of the car window was hot and burned her cheek.

He doesn't answer but Lea wasn't angry at him.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to tell her.

Or, maybe, he didn't know the answer himself.

Even though he was a god of death, he was not the Grim Reaper himself.

* * *

><p>"Why did you call <strong>him <strong>here?" Jenna shrieked when she caught sight of Donovan. Kira had told her to arrive to Donovan's house and he arrived as well but sans Lea.

For a second, Jenna panicked. _Did he somehow find out about Donovan and I? Does he know that we're planning to kill him?_

"Because, Jenna, I have a job that requires the skills **both **of you possess." Kira kept his contempt in check since he knew that even these buffoons didn't appreciate his superiority. Jenna relaxed slightly but shot Donovan a glance.

"I refuse to work with that nincompoop!" Jenna failed to keep her volume in check. She needed Kira to believe that she still hated Donovan (which she irrevocably did) and that they were incapable of scheming behind his back because of their mutual contempt for each other.

"And I refuse to work with that whale of a bitch." Donovan turned his nose up haughtily as if he truly was the better buffoon. Jenna inwardly sighed in relief; the idiot had understood.

Kira pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to curse away an incoming headache. Was it possible for gods of death to suffer from headaches? That was a human disease after all.

"Want to say that again?" Jenna asked venomously.

"Sure, I said quote 'I refuse to work with that whale of a bitch.' unquote," The cheeky bastard even used air quotes to emphasize his point.

Thank god his Lea wasn't this childish. Despite her obvious lapses in judgment, reasoning, logic and various other things. His "partner" had yet to truly test his patience unlike these two.

"I have reason to believe that the fan site is being attacked by a third party." He stated the fact rather too calmly.

"Third party?" They both asked in unison.

Kira smirked, knowing he had their full and undivided attention.

"And it is for our best interests that we locate this third party and put a stop to their efforts."

Jenna's eyes flickered to Donovan who had already rushed to his lair in eager anticipation of the impending chase.

"What would you like us to do when we find their location?"

"I want you to take note but do not engage. Just ensure that they will not be able to track our location any further." He ordered.

Jenna nodded hesitantly before bolting out of the room after Donovan.

Kira sighed in slight relief. He would have to think through their next steps carefully. Now that he was sure that his old rival was back from the grave, that sugar-addicted menace was probably right behind him.

But that's exactly where he would stay.

Right behind Kira.

Kira had known it was him. Even behind those moronic sunglasses. But he was sure that the exchange had worked both ways. Ryuuzaki had recognized him as well which would only further complicate things.

But for now he direly needed to assess Ryuuzaki's memory of the Death Note. And his connection with that woman from the party.

Perhaps it was time to pay him a visit.

* * *

><p>The house was emptier than usual since Kira had left to God knows where. Normally, when Kira was present, the echoing silence was muted and Lea took comfort in knowing that she wasn't the only living thing in the house. Okay, maybe Kira wasn't technically alive, but at least there was someone that would hear her screams should something happen.<p>

That's why the sound of a lock turning made Lea jump in fright.

"Lea, darling, what are you doing on the floor?" A maternal voice asked.

"Mom?" Lea's face scrunched in confusion.

"In the flesh." Her mother quipped as she took off the large floppy hat that adorned her head. Her mother had always been dressed in the most fashionable couture that was always au courant.

When she was little, Lea had always thought of her mother as a star. Not a movie star but a real, celestial star. Perhaps it was because of the mobile she had since a toddler but her mother always reminded her of those bright, twinkling stars that would dim come morning. Her mother was bright and spontaneous but her light rarely lasted. She'd be gone in the blink of eye, so Lea had learned. Sometimes, Lea would find her mother too bright to look at.

She would catch herself wishing for a frumpy mother. At least frumpy mothers were reliable and wouldn't leave their daughters alone for extended periods of time. And your eyes wouldn't smart from looking at a frumpy mother.

"Where's Dad?" She noticed the slightly balding man was conspicuously absent.

"Funny, that's exactly who I came here to talk to you about." The smile on her mother's face was commercial worthy.

_I__s it healthy for someone to have teeth that white?_

Lea couldn't imagine it being natural.

When her mother sat on the couch, Lea noticed her back was perfectly straight. Come to think of it, she had never seen her mother sitting without her legs crossed. Nor had there ever been a time when her legs weren't perfectly tanned or her hair perfectly colored. Her mother must have been nearly forty but she had yet to develop any wrinkles whatsoever.

Was it possible that her mother had cheated aging itself?

Why hadn't Lea realized that her mother was too perfect?

Maybe she wasn't looking hard enough for the flaws in her mother.

Maybe that was it. The only flaw her mother possessed was the lack of maternal behavior. There had always been a lack of compassion from her mother but Lea had written it off as tough love. But was it possible that it was her mother's only flaw?

The only flaw her mother possessed was that she failed as a mother?

"Now, before I begin, I want you to know that your father and I still love you very much. And that will never change."

_If you loved me, why aren't you ever around?_

"And we don't want you thinking that it's your fault." Her mother smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on her skirt.

_It has to be my fault since you and Dad never take responsibility for anything._

"Your father and I have decided to separate."

She paused to gauge Lea's emotions but it was obvious that she found none.

Lea was empty; her tears were gone. She had nothing more than a shell.

"Separate?" Her voice cracked despite her numbness.

"It isn't official yet but we're writing up the divorce before the end of this year." She folded her hands on her lap.

It was funny that Lea didn't feel the need to ask why or how. She wanted nothing more than to be left in the emptiness of the house. She wanted her mother to leave like she always did but at the same time the other part was surprised.

She was surprised that her mother had the courtesy to tell her in person rather than short e-mail.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her mother was only offering because it was expected of her.

"No." Lea shook her head. Stars didn't have daughters and stars didn't have the attention span nor the emotional capacity to empathize with her.

"Alright, dear. Well I'm going to go change and . . ."

"Was he unfaithful?" Lea wasn't sure why but she felt as though infidelity was the true reason why her parents were divorcing. She couldn't remember a time when she noticed her parents arguing. Ever. That wasn't normal, was it? They never bickered over petty things, in fact, Lea was willing to bet that they never really truly loved each other at all. That her mother was simply a trophy gaining dust on her father's mantle. And that was that.

"Excuse me?" Her mother gaped at her slightly before quickly shutting her mouth.

"Did Dad cheat?" Lea repeated.

"Now, what gave you that absurd idea?" Her mother's brow furrowed.

_Careful, you'll catch wrinkles that way._

"Nothing, it's just . . ."

"Well if that's all, I'll be upstairs if you need me." Her mother replied firmly as she sashayed away.

Lea leaned back into the comfort of the couch and curled into a ball.

_So Dad really had been unfaithful. Otherwise Mom would never been so defensive about that._

She was surprised at how tranquil her mother seemed. She was so stoic when she relayed the news to Lea.

Didn't her mother feel anything?

Her mother was a star.

And stars didn't have feelings.

Wait, that wasn't it.

Her mother was more like the sun.

Like the sun that would blind your eyes after being inside for so long.

Only Lea couldn't rub her eyes to make the pain go away.

It would stay etched onto her retinas forever.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** Thank you for all the anime recommendations! It means a lot. Really.**

** Expect a flurry of one-shots to pop up. Can't keep those pesky plot bunnies on their damn leashes.**

** Review?**

_Revised as of 6/21/2011._


	17. Blurring Lines

Death cancels everything but truth; and strips a man of everything but genius and virtue.

-William Hazlitt

Disclaimer: Signs irrevocably point to 'hell no'.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: Blurring Lines<strong>

Lea comes to the realization that she'd much rather her mother be the moon. The moon that stays in the sky even during daylight. The cool moon that never hurt her eyes. The moon that she's sure she could love in time. Like Kira.

Kira's been gone for the whole day and night.

Her mother's gone. Again.

It doesn't hurt like it's supposed to. It's like a scab that's healed over. It only began to hurt when Lea starts to think about it.

She thinks she wants Kira back here with her. But he'll only talk about that dream she's thrown away. The dream she's sick of hearing. Lea isn't sure if she still wants that. If she even cares anymore. About that world. About this world. About anything.

She wants to laugh because it's ridiculous that she's only starting to think about this now. That she's only starting to think about regretting what she's done and what she hasn't. Especially since it was too late now. She can't stop now. Kira won't let her, that much she's sure of.

And she's responsible. She's responsible for Donovan. For Jenna. She can't leave them here, she won't abandon them. She won't be like them. She will **never** ever be like her parents. She isn't sure what she'll do if that happens.

She doesn't want to be like the sun.

She'd rather be the moon.

That moon that's always there and always comforting her when she's lonely.

She wonders if she should kill him.

Her father shattered this picture perfect lie. So wasn't it his fault? Shouldn't he take responsibility for the mess that he created? Shouldn't he be the father that he's supposed to?

Infidelity isn't illegal but it's still wrong. Still disgusting. Still so human.

She's still human. She isn't like Kira.

Not yet. Not yet.

It hurts.

She thinks she fell on her face. She sprawled out on the marble floor, unmoving and uncaring.

Maybe she's actually a nihilist.

* * *

><p>Jenna is bored out of her mind. She's been watching Donovan, the self-proclaimed computer god, kick some idiot off their server or something like that. She may be fluent in some of the cryptic computer junk but she's no computer geek like Donovan.<p>

He's still a jerk, of course, but even jerks have their uses. And thankfully Donovan's good at what he does. He's been keeping this brat in line and single-handedly saving all of their asses.

But if he asks her to get back into the kitchen and make him a sandwich, she's backhanding the eyes out of his head. Even if he needs those for what he's doing.

He's been doing this for almost nine hours. But Jenna can see that he's reaching his limit. Whoever this other guy is, he's damn good. Maybe even better than Donovan but Jenna doubts the douche will ever admit that.

Her mom's going to be on her case. Again. She can actually hear her mom screeching from the other room.

_¿Dónde estuve anoche y con quién?_

Maybe this time she'll tell her the truth. Her mom's been really annoying since Cole's funeral.

Cole's funeral. She shakes her head, she doesn't want to think about that right now. She still feels the shame; she can recall how dirty she felt in front of Lea's pure tears. She doesn't want to feel like that ever again. She knows that killing Daniel is the only solution to this. She hopes.

"Whale." Donovan's an idiot, he's been calling her that since Daniel gave them this task. If she was any less of a person, she'd use the mouse to strangle him.

"What do you want, dickweed?" She wants to punch him so, so bad.

"Ah, so harsh. Is the whale angry?" He smiles though his finger never stop.

"Shut up, Ahab, before I get your harpoon." She yawns. It's late, she normally never stays up this late unless she's at a party or something.

"Impressive, I would have never pegged you for the literature type."

"Do I look like Ashley to you?" She tries to keep her fury under control. _Why does everyone assume that I'm an idiot?_

"I've been doing research on Daniel." He calmly announces.

"Oh?" She's trying so hard to sound disinterested but he knows he's piqued her interest. He grins but doesn't turn to face her.

She knows they're safe. Daniel left hours ago for Lea's house. It's just her and the egoist.

"Well, for one, I know that he doesn't exist."

"What?" She's still pissed at him. She hates it when Donovan plays mind games with her. He's a psycho, that much she's sure of. She would never ever work with him if it wasn't for Daniel. Daniel was worse than a psycho. Daniel was the type of person that would smile while driving over elderly pedestrians and wouldn't even have the balls to stop and admit what he did.

"There's no police or medical records of a Daniel. In fact, his 'parents' are on a trip to Bora Bora and they've been for almost a month now. They don't even have a son."

"Do you think Lea knows?" Jenna murmurs.

He shakes his head, "Of course not. Astraea would never do something so underhanded and vile as that. She wouldn't lie to **me**, that's for sure. I think he's tricked her as well." Of course, the idiot's right. Lea would never do that, ever. It has to be entirely Daniel's fault.

"So what should we do?" She asks.

"We could convince Lea to join our side but if she's too far gone then it's hopeless. We'd be better off just killing him."

"And how do propose we do that?" She's a bit apprehensive because she knows how devious Daniel truly is. They have to be extremely careful; they'll be walking on eggshells and glass shards the entire time.

"I've got an idea." Jenna can see his smile reflected in the glass of the computer monitor.

It reminds her of Daniel.

* * *

><p>She called Great-Aunt Hilda immediately but she only hears that stupid tinny voice that tell her that she's made a mistake. That the number doesn't exist or something idiotic like that.<p>

It's not possible for her mother to give a fake number, right? Why would she do something so underhanded and truculent?

Maybe it really is her fault and she remembered the number wrong.

She's really craving some vodka right now.

Wynter's pretty sure that she isn't allowed to call anyone else on her cell phone so there's a really good chance that Mr. Creeper was monitoring her call or something like that.

She doesn't really care. He can listen in on her phone calls all he likes, she still not going to care.

Why was she here again?

Oh right, to catch some idiotic serial killer that thinks she's bettering the world.

And for justice.

But she's not a saint like he is.

She doesn't want to do this anymore.

She just wants to go back to the way things were before Rufus died. Before they came and snatched her away from her lie of a life.

She knew things weren't perfect and that was quite alright.

Wynter didn't trust perfect.

She just wanted normal.

Was that too much to ask?

She didn't want these powers, never did actually.

She didn't.

She doesn't see the point anymore.

Is this some sort of test?

Because she was reaching rock bottom and there was no way up.

* * *

><p>He only hears the dial tone and then reaches for another pastry.<p>

Ms. Wynter's conversation with her mother causes Ryuuzaki to find himself thinking of family. He supposes that he may have considered Watari as a father at one point of his life. But now he isn't so sure. He's starting to think that relationship between he and his previous guardian was nothing more than that of an employer and employee. The familial bond was conspicuously absent from the dynamic. But he does not deny that he trusted Watari with quite a few of his secrets. Not all of them, of course, but more than he's ever entrusted to anyone.

He supposes that one might consider his successors as his sons. But he doesn't find anything more ridiculous. He doesn't see himself as a father figure. He can't even imagine having children. He's dedicated his life to being a detective and became a pariah just to deny himself distractions. He chose this. He knew the consequences but merely embraced them.

He did this for the world. And now that the world is endangered by Kira yet again it's his job, no, duty to save it.

Especially since he's failed the first time. This was his redemption, it was his duty to drag Light Yagami back to Mu where he belonged.

Ryuuzaki thinks it's rather foolish to allow gods of death to bend so easily. That it should not have been possible for Kira to persuade the King of Death to make him a Shinigami.

He feels sickened by how the gods take enjoyment in endangering the lives of the very people they've been entrusted. How can they view every human as merely a doll that could be tossed aside without an inkling of remorse? They're probably laughing right now. Laughing at the very abomination that they've created and unleashed unto the world.

Were they going to keep doing this? Were the gods going to continue unleashing Light upon the world and force him to capture him? Was he forever doomed to chase after Light Yagami?

He feels a bitter taste arise from his throat.

He quickly shoves another pastry into his mouth.

* * *

><p>It's getting harder to tell.<p>

The difference between reality and illusion.

But Wynter knows she brought this on herself. It was her decision to stop drinking. Her decision to go back to 'normal'. Her decision to . . .

The lines are blurring again.

Natalia's behind her shoulder, laughing.

Or is that Ryuuzaki?

She can't really tell at this point.

Maybe it's the withdrawal talking. Withdrawals can bring on hallucinations, right?

Maybe she needs to go to an AA meeting, ASAP.

She's trying to remember the last time it's been this bad. The last time it's ever felt like this. She isn't too sure, actually. Before the dreams used to only bother her while she asleep, it's never done this while she's awake.

It's like she can see everything that going to happen her life at any time. Every action she makes has a consequence. And she can see all of the consequences and the consequences of those consequences and on and on and on.

Natalia looks too much like Lea. Enough to make her stumble over and try to grab air like a lifeless guppy.

She's . . .

They're looking at her again.

The transvestite.

The albino.

The gamer.

They're all looking at her. Again.

Maybe she's finally lost it.

But, then again, did she ever really have anything to lose?

Wait!

The albino's saying something to her.

Something about not enough sleep.

But that's crazy right?

She only gets to see Natalia in her sleep. So why wouldn't she sleep? She loves Natalia. Natalia's her sister, right?

Wait! Isn't that Natalia laughing at her? Right there in the corner! Standing right next to Ryuuzaki clear as bells.

Is she asleep now?

Is she?

Is she?

_**Is she?**_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**I put up two new one-shots: Radio Coquette and Cirque de L'enfer. **

**Experimenting with a new tense. Is it working for the story or not?**

_¿Dónde estuve anoche y con quién? - Where were you last night and with who?_

**Review, if you want. Updates will be irregular and I mean **highly **irregular. **

_Revised as of 6/22/2011._


	18. The Failed Resurrection

For those times we felt like a mistake/

Those times when love's what you hate/

Somehow/

We keep marchin' on.

- "Marchin' On" by OneRepublic

Disclaimer: Game over.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen: The Failed Resurrection<strong>

He found her sprawled out on the carpet in the living room with the Death Note ominously opened upon the glass of the coffee table. For a moment he paused at her still figure as anger and disbelief swept his veins, surely Lea was not so weak as to resort to suicide. He was momentarily relieved when he felt heat seep out of her clothing and listened to her gentle snoring. Hesitantly, he picked up her up and placed her on the couch. The girl curled up into a ball and muttered intangibly.

He was going to scold her for leaving the Death Note out so casually. But for now he would let the girl sleep.

He made his way to the coffee table and glanced down at the open page.

_Interesting._

Perhaps he was wrong, the girl was not weak at all for her sense of justice was much stronger than others.

She was not like Misa Amane, the fool that would follow him into hell and back. He supposed that he should be glad of that. Briefly, he wondered about the airhead and her whereabouts; Ryuk had mentioned that she had committed suicide after his death.

His fist clenched involuntarily as he thought of the circumstances of his end.

Who would have thought that Touta Matsuda had the guts to pull the trigger?

He had known that Ryuk would come through with his promise and finish him. He scowled as he remembered his last moments of weakness and humanity. He was still so disgustingly human then. It was pitiful, how weak humans were.

He upturned the ends of his lips into the shape of a leer.

But he would no longer have to worry about that.

He was finally a god.

And it was time to start his reign.

He turned his head back to the couch where Lea lied. Her vulnerable state was rather pathetic to him. It reminded him that she was still human, still so human.

Perhaps when he killed the King of Death, he would reward her.

A god always did need his own devotees. And as the god of a new world, he would need only the best devotees he could find. But should she ever become a burden or hindrance to his plans, then he would mercilessly destroy her. It would be an honor really, to be killed by his own hands.

Of course he would only do so if he did not kill Ryuuzaki first. His only adversary, L. His insides boiled at the mere mention of that man.

Light had made a deal with the King of Death.

He had bragged that he was more than capable of killing the man again. After all he had done it once, hadn't he? There was no reason that he couldn't outsmart the man another time.

The King of Death was becoming old and had promised to consider his application on one condition. The head of his greatest enemy.

The gods were truly petulant since they seemed to enjoy any game of cat and mouse. He had been a bit dismayed once he had discovered their childish tendencies. Of course he would never stoop so low as to become one of those gods. He was regal unlike the current heathens that called themselves gods.

Ryuuzaki may have the advantage since he knew of the limits on his powers but, with the help of his devotees, he was sure the tide would turn.

The gods had also chosen to place their game in a world that had been untouched by the Death Note until their arrival.

But a new world only meant new opportunities.

Ryuuzaki and his successors had been resurrected only for the sole reason of obstructing his path to eternal godliness.

He would be more than happy to send L back to Mu.

* * *

><p>The darkness engulfed her in a way that both blanketed and choked her. It was extremely difficult for her to breathe. Her hacking was the only sound that registered in her ears but the overwhelming silence was slowly slicing her mind.<p>

_Where am I?_

Of all her dreams, Wynter was certain that this was the most terrifying.

All of her dreams prior to this one had substance. They had never been so **alien** and empty before. There was this one time when she experienced nearly drowning but that was a complete different matter.

"Wynter."

She's never heard that voice in her life. But she remembered it from somewhere, somewhere deep within the recesses of her own mind. She felt as though she should recognize it with ease but was unable to even locate where the sound was emanating from. Her mind was too muddled to really remember anything at that point. She barely remembered her own name.

"Wynter." It echoed angrier in her mind. Her lip quivered as fear dripped off her face in obvious tears. What did this voice want from her?

"Wynter." The echoed had softened into nothingness.

The light struck her like a smarting slap. Her eyes fluttered as she hopelessly tried to adjust to the blinding ray of brightness.

It was a woman with hallowed skin and tresses so dark that Wynter would have mistaken them for black had the light not been directed on her. She had an ethereal glow about her and eyes so deep they rivaled Ryuuzaki's.

The woman's hand was outstretched and the warmth Wynter could feel was so real.

"W-where am I?" The words dropped out of Wynter's mouth like rain.

The woman pleasantly shook her head and smiled mirthlessly as she continued to stretch out her hand. Upon further inspection, Wynter noticed the wrinkles on the hand did not match the youth on her face. She felt a wave of suspicion wash over her and scrutinized the hand like that of a cynic.

_What the hell is this?_

The woman simply continued to gesture and refused to talk as though she was a mute. Wynter blinked in confusion and tried to move her body but to no avail. She was frozen into that position and everything was numb from her chin down. Panic filled her unmoving body. She couldn't run away; she couldn't look away. She was sure that she had never felt this afraid in her life.

_Why can't I move? Why can't I feel my limbs?_

"It's a shame that you're not ready yet." The words couldn't be coming from the woman since Wynter had failed to see the woman move her lips. Maybe she was a ventriloquist or something? Why did she feel like she was supposed to know this woman? She didn't think she had met the woman during any of her dreams.

"Ready for what?" Her pathetic plea echoed throughout the expansive room.

"Learn to accept what cannot be changed." The voice boomed.

_ What no thunder? No ultimatum? Some dream this turned out to be. _Wynter rolled her eyes; she was momentarily pleased that she could at least do that much.

The woman gave her a waning smile as she slowly walked away and the light faded with her departure. The light dissolved leaving her in the cold, cold darkness.

She frowned.

_Why does everyone love screwing with me?_

* * *

><p>"Have you located them yet?" Jenna asked while yawning. She had just called her mother to inform the woman that she would be staying over at Lea's house for the time being. Her mother had allowed this since Jenna had mentioned that Lea had a weak constitution and would need emotional support, simply another blatant lie that her mother greedily swallowed. Jenna did not feel any guilt however, since she believed that if her mother was stupid enough to believe her lies then she deserved it.<p>

"I don't see you busting your ass to help." Donovan grunted.

"I tried, remember? But you go ape-shit whenever someone touches your 'precious'!" She snorted. The man had went haywire when she touched the mouse. He had obnoxiously refused her offers to help and stubbornly replied that he didn't need it.

Daniel was still absent and Jenna was feeling far more relaxed than she ever thought was possible while in Donovan's presence.

"Whatever, but it seems like they're not that far away." Jenna saw Donovan rolling his eyes in the reflection off the computer monitor.

"How far?" She asked while examining her finger nails. She really needed to get a mani-pedi after this was all over.

"Uh. . ." Donovan hesitantly replied.

"You don't even know that?" Jenna furiously growled.

_Unbelievable, this guy calls himself a computer prodigy but he can't even do that?_

"Jen, you don't understand. This guy's _good_. He's not like some noob on World of Warcraft or Call of Duty, okay? He actually knows his shit." Donovan muttered, his normally dark eyes shone with excitement.

"How good we talking?" She had deduced as much but it unnerved her to hear Donovan admit such a thing.

"Like hacking the Pentagon good. Dude's probably a legend." Donovan calmly complimented.

Jenna choked. She didn't think the guy was _that _good.

"Then guess." Jenna clenched her jaw totally unamused.

"Honestly, I think he's in the same state. Either that or he's on the moon." Jenna rolled her eyes.

"How sure are you?" Jenna asked civilly. If they were going to tell Daniel this, they were going to need some concrete evidence; Jenna was certain that he'd probably kill them as well should he hear Donovan's half-assed guesses.

He didn't answer and for a moment, the only sound heard in the entire room was the clicking of a keyboard. But then his gruff voice answered, "Just give me some time, okay?"

Jenna sighed in despair; Daniel was going to have their ass for this.

"How much time? You can't keep doing this Donovan! Just lock us up tight and make sure he can't find us. We'll locate him later." Jenna ordered him. Jenna was sick to her stomach worried about the ass. He needed his sleep, genius or not. Even the psycho had his limits.

Donovan opened his mouth to argue but Jenna intercepted him, "I don't care about whether you think you can keep going 'cause I **know** you can't. Donovan even you need rest. I'm not going to let Lea worry about your ass when you finally collapse from exhaustion."

"Thanks," Donovan murmured softly. Jenna felt her face flush because for once the jackass actually sounded sincere and human.

"It's not like I'm worried about you! I just don't want to have to drag your fat ass to bed." Jenna scowled when she caught him leering at her.

"Right." Donovan smirked.

Sometimes, Jenna was way too nice for her own good.

She blamed Juanita.

* * *

><p>He was out drinking at one of the ritzier bars in town. The man wore a lavish business suit with expensive Italian leather shoes. Obviously, this man had been well blessed with riches and it wouldn't surprise the bartender if he bought the entire stock of whiskey in the whole bar.<p>

"Sir, I don't think that would be wise. . ." The bartender murmured after the man's umpteenth shot of whiskey. The man's eyes were bloodshot and his hand grew increasingly unsteady.

"Listen here, pal. When you've got to my age and seen the shit I've seen, you wouldn't be stopping me." The man lewdly belched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

The bartender wrinkled his nose in disgust; it was simply moronic how the wealthy thought they could get away with anything since they had the money.

"We were married 24 fucking years! And you know how she repaid me?" The man bellowed and his voice only carried further in the empty bar.

"How?" The bartender was used to this game; he had seen his share of drunks and knew exactly how to handle them. He was going to call security in about ten minutes since that was the time that the bar was supposed to close.

"She became a fuckin' whore!" The man sniffed and began to bawl. He rested his head on the bar counter as his shoulders shook.

It was sad really, how humans turned to alcohol to fix the problems in their own life.

"Sir, the bar's closed. I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I'll call you a taxi, alright? Just tell me your address." The bartender professionally chided the drunkard as he picked up a nearby phone.

But he was only met with silence.

"Sir? Did you hear me?" The bartender walked towards the man and gently shook him by the shoulders.

The man's head slumped at an odd angle and his body slowly dropped off the bar stool and onto the expensive tile.

The bartender gasped in disbelief and he stumbled back to the phone to call the authorities.

The man was dead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Where the hell did the JennaxDonovan come from?**

**BTW: Wrote a new one-shot named ****Saccharine****Retribution****. **


	19. Rehab and Rejects

Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?

- "There's a Good Reason that these Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought of it Yet" by PANIC! At The Disco

Disclaimer: You suffer from short-term memory loss or somethin'?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen: Rehab and Rejects<strong>

"I don't need your goddamn concern. Just leave me the hell alone!" Wynter was convinced that she was beyond rock bottom now, she left that sucker behind _weeks_ ago. But, unfortunately for her, Ryuuzaki was not quite as sure. He, along with Near, had been pestering her about the dream as soon as she gained consciousness. But she played it dumb and began mumbling something incoherent about aliens and warp drives. She wasn't even sure if she could trust herself anymore, especially her dreams.

She had been avoiding everything and anything for the past week or so since that dream. That dream, Christ, she could still see it behind her eyelids. They told her that she had been in a coma for three days. Three _motherfucking _days. Time that she would never get back. Ever.

**Learn to accept what cannot be changed.**

What kind of bullshit was that anyway? It wasn't like she welcomed change or anything? Why the hell did it tell her that? And what exactly was _it_, anyways? And what was about to change—er—not change? And why the hell did her dreams have to be so vague? Why did they need to beat around the bush?

She angrily kicked a glass bottle out of her way and flinched at the noise it made as it hit the wall. She needed to clean up her room. She needed to get her life straight. She needed to stop thinking about that godforsaken dream and get her head back on her shoulders where it belonged.

She wanted to throw a tantrum, something she hadn't done since . . .

Shit, had she forgotten her childhood that easily?

She had been spending way too much time with these freaks, that was for sure. Spending time with Mr. Creeper and Co. was enough to screw anyone's mind over not just her own.

How long had it been since she had that phone call with her mother? A week, at least that was what she thought. Ever since the dream-coma, her sense of time had been bent out of shape. A lot of things had been bent out of shape since that dream. She lost confidence in her abilities since the hallucination she had before blacking out. She had seen Natalia in _reality_. Something that never ever _ever _had happened before, it had freaked her out to put it lightly. And she was still scared. Scared that she'll see Natalia again when she wasn't supposed to. Scared that she was going to start losing the only safe thing that she left. Her reality.

Great-Aunt Hilda would surely be back from that tournament by now, right?

Her fingers numbly punched the digits as she flopped onto her bed, trying to avoid the numerous bottles of alcohol scattered around her room. She had started drinking as soon as she woke out of her coma, maybe it was the fear or the pressures of the withdrawal but she didn't try to look too much into it.

She impatiently scowled as she listened to the infernal dial tone when suddenly she heard the click that she had been waiting for.

"Great-Aunt Hilda?" She smiled into the phone.

"Ms. Wynter, I must remind you that this phone is for contact purposes. This is not a personal phone." Wynter nearly dropped the phone in disbelief. _How did he. . ._

"R-ryuuzaki? You were the bastard blocking my calls?" Wynter squawked when she finally put two and two together.

"I would like to remind you that I allowed you to call your mother." Ryuuzaki sounded slightly uncomfortable, but she was probably imagining that.

"Hold on, you listened to my phone calls? You eavesdropped?" Her words were coated in a deathly calm, something Wynter hadn't know she had possessed prior to that moment.

Ryuuzaki was silent for a few moments as Wynter quietly fumed.

**He had **_**listened**_** to her phone calls. **

_**He**_** was the one blocking her phone calls. **

She wished it was possible to mutilate someone over the phone.

"It was necessary for security precautions." She could just imagine him nonchalantly scratching his foot with his big toe. As if this wasn't anything of significance or personal or . . . She was going to tie him up with rope and swing at him like the kooky empty-shell of a pinata he was.

**The bastard didn't even have the guts to fucking admit it.**

"Ryuuzaki," Wynter's voice was barely above a whisper, "Are you listening very carefully?"

Ryuuzaki answered, "Yes, Ms. Wynter?"

"I hope they have sweets in hell, jackass." She bitterly slammed the cellphone shut and dove under the covers to foster her madness in comfort.

_What the hell is wrong with this guy? Is he seriously just made out of stone? Does he take everything so impersonally?_

She wanted nothing more than to have the honors of punching the guy's lights out. Maybe for good. Wynter's stomach twitched in retaliation as she thought back to Astraea. Okay, maybe _not_ for good but just enough so he'd stop being such an ass.

Ha. Wynter would bet all the sugar in the world that nothing could ever stop Ryuuzaki from being, well, Ryuuzaki. Being an ass was probably dictated into his very DNA, she couldn't just beat it out of him.

Maybe it wasn't the jerk's fault, maybe it was his zany way of showing concern. It didn't look like he had very much human contact even if he had his successors waiting on him hand and foot. The guy probably got his vitamin D fix from all that frosting instead of the sun. She was also doubtful he had ever spoken with someone of opposite sex before, especially if Mello didn't count.

_Nah, he can't be that messed up._

_Could he?_

Maybe the guy had been cooped up for too long, maybe _she_ was losing it. Staying inside for so long was messing with her head, perhaps it would be better for everyone if she got some air in her lungs.

The air outside on the patio was hot but she took refuge under the large Wisteria tree and for a while she admired the bright purple plumage of the flowers. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest as she quietly swallowed oxygen.

Her eyes dimly registered Ryuuzaki's slouching figure in the distance. Leisurely strolling, he had his hands in his pockets and was the definition of nonchalance. Everything, from the bags under his eyes to his pasty skin screamed psychotic-loner-hermit-detective.

Were all geniuses like this?Because if that was true, Wynter was glad for her average IQ.

She didn't acknowledge him as he stood in front of her, gazing down as condescending as usual. He paused and for a while it seemed as though they were frozen to their respective spots, waiting for someone to break the ice.

Wynter wasn't much for waiting, "Are you going to sit down or are you going to bore holes in my head?"

He silently crouched down beside her in his eternal roost. She wondered if she could bribe him to sit like a normal person; she wondered if he had _ever _sat like a normal person. The odds were probably stacked against her.

She could only hear the sun beating down on the grass blades and the whispered echo of a passing car.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I haven't been in the best of moods lately." She had decided that she was going to be the bigger person here. She wasn't going to let her conscience be bogged down by _him _of all people, especially since she had countless other things that desperately needed her attention.

He didn't verbally respond to her apology but she took the look he gave her as an obscure "apology accepted".

"Hey, Ryuuzaki." She felt the man glance at her from the corner of her eye as she wondered why she kept talking and why she was so bothered from the silence between them.

"Do you ever have trouble distinguishing reality from hallucination?" She stumbled through her words but the moment they left her mouth she felt nearly eighty pounds lighter. There. She finally admitted that she's gone crazy, that maybe there really _was _something wrong with her and she was scared shitless with no one to turn to. Her atoms had a seizure when she felt an almost ghostly touch on her upper arm. His touch made her arm tense up and she suddenly felt hyper-aware of his spidery hand.

When she met his ominously powerful stare, she flinched and looked away. He still didn't respond to her question but nonetheless Wynter felt herself becoming more reassured. Something about his presence was oddly comforting to her; the guy might be a freak but at least he was sincere. This was him trying to be sincere, right?

"Ryuuzaki, what are you exactly?" Maybe that part wasn't supposed to leave her mouth but it was too late now. She had been thinking about it since that day in that diner in Nevada. Her eyes opened wider as she looked at him intently.

He must have died before if he talked about a past life. Why was he still here if he had died? Something must have gone wrong if he was still alive on Earth. He _was _technically still alive, right?

"It's a long story." His voice sounded soft and almost weary if she didn't know any better.

"I've got nothing but time, Ryuuzaki." She replied as a quiver of a breeze swept through the Wisteria flowers.

* * *

><p>Her mother had chosen to deliver the "tragic" news of her father's death. Her words not Lea's. Funny, how before she was chiding her mother for her lack of emotion but now she felt just as stoic as her mother relayed the details.<p>

Heart failure, as her mother so eloquently explained, was due to the combined stress of his demanding job and the changes in his personal life.

Her mother should be the person to deliver bad news in hospitals. She could see her simply smile that empty, waning smile and give a false apology as if it were nothing. And the woman probably wouldn't lose any sleep over it either.

A small voice in her questioned if her mother would _ever_ care. If there was ever a time that her mother had actually cared about something other than herself.

The same voice was also saying something rather ridiculous, that Lea had killed her own father.

Lea stifled a humorless laugh.

As if she had a father to begin with.

A father was supposed to care for his young, right? A father was supposed to pick you up when you fell down and tell you to try again. A father was there for you, even when you fucked up so bad that you couldn't even deny it.

That man wasn't her father anymore than this woman was her mother.

"Lea, are you alright?" Lea blinked and realized that she was out with Jenna and that she had been staring into the space for over five minutes now.

"Sorry, just thinking about something." Lea shook her head as she sipped her now melting iced coffee.

"About what?" Lea inwardly cursed, Jenna wasn't as much of fool as everyone thought.

"Daniel." Lea didn't miss the slight twitch in the other girl's eyes.

"Oh." Lea was glad that the girl left it at that, she wasn't quite sure whether she could continue lying to the girl while looking her in the face.

"So, how's babysitting duty?" Lea smirked when she noticed the girl pout while scowling. Jenna had been entrusted to watch over Donovan while he tried to track down the person that was attempting to hack into their website. Jenna had been less than pleased when she learned that she would have to do so nearly every night save for the times it was Daniel's turn.

"Don't even talk about that jackass." Jenna deadpanned.

"So no progress yet? At all?" Lea inquired as she licked her lips. Lea didn't feel worried though, Donovan was the type of person that was relentless. He would eventually find this person so there was no reason to put up such a fuss about it.

Jenna dejectedly shook her head and, as a result, Lea quirked an eyebrow.

"Seriously, he's that good?" That was quite the surprise.

"Maybe even better than Donovan." Jenna added softly.

Lea shrugged, "It's no biggie. Daniel always has a plan B."

Jenna scrunched her eyebrows together, "What's plan B?"

Lea stifled a mirthless laugh.

* * *

><p>She can't believe that she was babysitting the idiot. Again. He hadn't grown anymore hospitable since she had expressed concern for his welfare. Not that she had expected the dolt to.<p>

It wasn't like she looked forward to it. She used it as an excuse to escape her hellish home and her mother. It wasn't like she wanted to be there.

He merely grunted when she entered his lair which was in the same disarray as the last time she had been there.

"Don't you ever clean up?" She asked in disgust when she felt something crunch under her foot. Chips. At least she hoped that's what it was.

"Do I look like I have uterus?" She was going to kill that damned sexist.

"Quit with the sexist jokes before I make it so that there's _two_ females in the room." Donovan snorted as he briefly glanced at Jenna.

"Love to see you try, whale. But there's something I need to ask you." Had she ever told him that she didn't like that serious look on his face? It creeped her the hell out.

"Alright, shoot." Jenna replied when she finally settled into a seemingly clean chair.

"Do you still have the weapon that Astraea gave you?" Jenna could tell that he was still sore that Daniel had forbade him from receiving his share of the power. He only knew the crude mechanics of it, actually.

Jenna shook her head, Daniel had instructed for her to return the paper sometime before Cole's funeral. Back when she didn't know that Daniel had been the one to trick her into killing Cole.

Donovan groaned and Jenna half expected him to start cursing at her.

"What would be the use, anyways? We would need his real name for that, but all we know is that he's using an alias." Jenna asked rather bewildered of his request.

"I know but I was hoping that there was an easier way out of it. Looks like now we'll just have to continue with the regular plan. But if we are, there's something I need you to know first." His voice was still deathly serious and it gave Jenna the chills.

"Okay?" Her statement was converted into a question.

"I really wouldn't sit there if I were you." He continued in the shitty mysterious voice.

"Why?" She asked as she deliberately frowned. Why was he talking like that?

He merely laughed.

Jenna felt her vein burst out.

_Te odio tanto._

* * *

><p>Ryuuzaki wasn't sure what he was expecting for her reaction. Perhaps, the logical thing to assume what that she would not believe him or accuse him of lying. Then again, perhaps both those assumptions were completely unfounded since Ms. Wynter was habitually unpredictable.<p>

He certainly wasn't expecting her to embrace him nor burst hysterically into tears nor that she would slap him.

But of course the woman ended up doing all three after giving him a long, wary look.

He didn't bother trying to remove her from his shoulder, he was thirty-eight percent certain that she would eventually do so herself.

A one point three percent chance that he wouldn't be able to escape her vice grip.

And an odd eight percent possibility that he simply didn't want to.

He wondered how it was possible for someone to smell like cake that just left the oven. She smelt like one of his many favorites, a confection made with expensive vanilla.

_ Do all females smell as such? _ But he distinctly remembered Misa Amane smelling much more like flowers.

Maybe this was strictly Ms. Wynter.

Strange how her pheromones seemed to have been tailored precisely to his tastes.

Strange indeed.

* * *

><p>Okay, so maybe she wasn't expecting his story to such a sob-fest. Even if she was the only one bawling her eyes out and he ended up comforting <em>her.<em>

But, _c'mon_, the dude was killed by the first guy that may have actually befriended him. And that same bastard was the one that they were chasing now.

Dying was already traumatic by itself, Wynter couldn't imagine how it felt to die like _that_.

No wonder Ryuuzaki was so messed up.

Wynter inwardly scowled as she suppressed another snivel. How the hell was this man so calm about this? Why didn't he even show a shred of sadness?

He certainly felt human which had astonished her since she had been convinced that the man was denser than a block of wood.

Ryuuzaki was probably a block of breathing alabaster.

At least he didn't smell like sweets, because maybe that would have overloaded her system.

He smelt clean like a mixture of laundry detergent and strawberries.

Words couldn't describe how she felt as his nimble, piano fingers stroked her head. It felt all wrong, too much like he was petting an animal rather than comforting another human being.

The man was just full of surprises today, wasn't he?

Nonetheless, she allowed him to do as much. She was practically slobbering on his shoulder after all.

It was marginally easier to think about Ryuuzaki than it was to remember her own life. Selfishly, she felt better knowing that at least her life wasn't as bad as it could be.

If he was that broken on the outside, she couldn't even begin to comprehend how bad it was on the inside.

Maybe no one did.

Maybe she'd be the first one to find out.

She involuntarily squeezed his shoulder.

Because everyone needed someone to look after them.

Even the world's greatest detective.

Or, at least, what was left of him.

"T-there's still something I don't understand," she admitted when she finally pried herself off his shoulder.

"Yes?" She kind of wondered what his voice would be like if he didn't have a monotone but she quickly stopped that question since she already knew the answer.

"Why were you brought back to life?" She asked quietly.

She didn't miss the flash of anger that shook in his eyes, "For the sick amusement of petulant fools that call themselves gods."

She really was way in over her head.

It's too bad that she didn't realize that until now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

_Te odio tanto. - I hate you so much._

**Is it just me or is this chapter rather filler-ish? Bah, I totally wasn't aiming for that. **

** Probably one of the longer chapters I've ever written.**

** Special thanks to WhiteLadyDragon and Katamabob. Thanks to everyone else that added this story to their favorites/alert list. I can't say it enough.**

** Review.**


	20. Unburied Lies

I've been trying too hard with too dull of a knife/

But tonight I made sure that I sharpened it twice/

I never bought a suit before in my life/

But when you go to meet God/

You know you wanna look nice. . .

- "Bullet" by Hollywood Undead

Disclaimer: I obviously lack the magnificent genius of Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, thus I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty: Unburied Lies<strong>

Wynter could remember a time before everything. A time before her father realized that his only child was a nut job and before the dreams of unborn sisters and fake worlds. There was this memory of her on a boat with her parents; the sun was melting behind them as her father explained the great philosophical values of fishing and the great outdoors. Her mother had taken shelter underneath a giant, floppy sunhat and obsessively rubbed sunscreen onto her arms.

That day was the first time she had ever seen a fish out of water. At the time, she had been awestruck at the sight. Her small form marveled at how the fish was able to drown in air, something that she couldn't quite wrap her head around. But then, it stopped flopping and all she saw were its cold, blank eyes. Those eyes would continue to haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Dad, why do things die?" She was young but even then she noticed the involuntary flinch in her father's eyes. The way his jaw tightened and his hands clenched the fishing pole before momentarily loosening them. At the time she didn't think much of it since death was a touchy subject for most people and was pretty much ignored.

"Well, I suppose it's because God gets lonely." He didn't really meet her eyes, he was gazing far off at the horizon. She wasn't quite sure what she would have seen in his eyes if she had. Despair? Thoughtfulness? Or an overwhelming bitterness from a man that had lost his mother and father before the birth of his first child?

As Wynter thought back, she realized that she had never heard her dad mention anything about his parents. Nothing. It was as thought they had simply vanished and he had always been an orphan. The only things she knew about her grandmother had been from Great-Aunt Hilda but even then the woman was parsimonious about the information she revealed. For a while, she grew up not even knowing if she even had any grandparents.

"Is that why things die? So they can become friends with him so he'll never be lonely?" Her yellow sundress fluttered in the breeze as the azure sky watched from above. She squinted her eyes as she tried to adjust from the magnificently bright light. Her legs wobbled from the rocking boat and her grubby hands clutched the railing for support.

"I guess." Her father offhandedly replied as he fiddled with the line. Wynter looked out into the distance to try to see what her father was looking at.

She remembered wishing, for a split second, to die as well. So that she would never be lonely like that fish lying motionlessly on the deck with its cold, blank eyes.

_It must be lonely, to be God._

* * *

><p>If her eye hadn't been attached to its socket, Jenna was sure that it would have fallen off from all the twitching her eyelid was doing. Donovan seemed to know precisely how to burrow deep under her skin and stay there while he grated on her nerves.<p>

_The nerve of this idiot! He laughed at me for the past ten minutes and he still hasn't told me what the hell's wrong with the chair!_

Thankfully, the dolt's attention was focused back at the screen and Jenna relished the the reigning silence. At least, he was able to concentrate on something other than torturing her with his obnoxious immaturity.

She had to admit, she didn't exactly abhor his existence when he was distracted on something other than herself. She kind of admired the way he was so relentless. Granted, this moronic persistence was the very thing that led him to kidnap Lea and drag him into this mess. But at least the guy wasn't some frivolous quitter, right?

Jenna involuntarily jerked her head as though she was afraid that he had overheard what she had thought.

Why was she defending the buffoon again?

Okay, maybe she didn't hate Donovan's guts. It was more of a healthy loathing rather than pure, unadulterated hatred. He could actually be rather tolerable if he worked on that condescending tone of his and maybe kept his craziness a little more in check.

_Damn_, she really must be tired if she even considered him to be decent on any level.

"Donovan, are you sure about this?" Jenna cursed when she heard her voice crack.

"Having second thoughts, scaredy cat?" He just sounded so damn confident but Jenna couldn't help thinking that this was just another front. Another face that he had donned just to mess with her.

"It's just that I feel kinda guilty letting you do all the dirty work." She finally said it and Jenna felt a little lighter. She felt like shit just letting Donovan kill Daniel by himself even though she had agreed to help.

"Don't. I'm not going to feel guilty killing the bastard; he fooled Lea and you." There was an edge to his voice that she wasn't expecting at all.

His reply shut her up for a while but she couldn't help replaying his words in an endless loop.

Lea and **you**.

**You.**

** You.**

She didn't like him.

Juanita didn't hate him but, then again, Juanita was supposed to be dead.

There was no reason for Jenna _not _to hate him. He kidnapped Lea, he insulted her every possible second, and he had the sanity of a jar of peanut butter. He was the lunatic of the school and Lea's self-proclaimed stalker. Why should she think any more of him?

It wasn't like he cared for anyone besides Lea. Jenna wasn't even sure if Donovan even cared for himself as much as he did Lea. She had seen the scars on his wrist, it wasn't like he was hiding them and Jenna had always been naturally nosy. She wasn't quite sure of the circumstances but she knew that he had been hurting himself. From time to time, she find herself staring at him and wondering why. Why did he choose to carve himself up like a stupid turkey? What did he possibly get from it?

_What if he's the same as us?_

Jenna swore she heard the echo of a whisper. Juanita's voice.

There was nothing wrong with her. Juanita was dead and Jenna wasn't, simple as that.

Jenna could remember that she used to see Juanita in the mirror instead of herself. She didn't tell anyone of course and merely blamed it on drunken hallucinations.

She didn't like Donovan.

She didn't.

_El amor es ciego._

* * *

><p>"You wanted to talk?" Lea was fully aware of her dull, listless eyes. There had been a nagging voice inside her head that questioned whether she still wanted to go through with this plan. If she still wanted to follow Kira to the outskirts of hell even if she could potentially lose herself in the process. That voice was mercilessly quashed.<p>

"Despite Donovan's relentless work, we are no closer to finding our adversary than we were previously." Kira's face was rather unperturbed as he casually yawned. The two had opted for a romantic stroll in the park, not that Daniel saw her as anything but a partner but because he had some important news he wished to relay to her.

"What's the point? He'll eventually find them and then we can just kill them with the Death Note." Lea answered as she leaned closer to his frame.

"Unfortunately, it will not be that simple. There is a large possibility that Donovan will never succeed in finding them." Kira pointedly shifted away from her and Lea immediately pouted.

"You know these people?" She offhandedly asked.

"I did when I was still human." He was rather reluctant about telling her anything nowadays.

"They know about the Death Note, don't they?" A frown pulled on her lips, maybe there was reason to worry. If these people knew of the Death Note then it wouldn't be so easy to kill them.

"That could not be helped. But, Lea, do you know of L?"

A confused look conquered her face, "Isn't that the detective that allegedly died years ago?" She had heard bits and snatches of him from her teachers. Apparently, the guy had proclaimed himself as a hero for justice or some crap like that but rumors had spread that he kicked the bucket a while back.

"I am afraid that he is one pursuing us." His voice answered steadily.

"How is that even possible? The guy's been dead for years!" Lea fought hard to keep her voice within a decent whisper. It wasn't possible for people to return from the dead! The Death Note had stated that all humans die no matter what.

"There are ways to escape death itself, Lea. But it always comes with a price." It was hard to believe that he was actually discussing death with that serene face of his.

"Price?" She echoed in awe.

He merely nodded as she chewed on this information. If Kira was able to become a god of death, she supposed it wasn't too far-fetched for someone to return from the dead.

"Lea, remember that deal I had mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I think it's time." Lea tried to ignore her screaming inner voice as his eyes flashed their vicious crimson.

_What is the price of becoming a god?_

_ How do we know if that price is too much?_

* * *

><p>"Okay, so the gods resurrected you from the dead so you could have a death match against your mortal enemy?" Wynter couldn't help the disbelief in her voice, it seemed much too strange even for her.<p>

"It seems that Kira's goal is to kill me before carrying out his other plans. I was instructed to capture his surrogate human and prove his guilt." The look on his face made Wynter think that they were talking about something mundane like cake.

"I don't understand, does that mean Mello and the others were dead too?" She thought of his three bitches that were still inside the mansion.

"No, I was the only one that was resurrected. My successors existed in this world as well, I merely enlisted their help."

"How were you able to convince them? And if you died in this world, why didn't they take your place?" To be honest, even Wynter had been rather suspicious even when Ryuuzaki had revealed his true self. She hadn't known much about the famous detective, only that he had died some years back and that he was never replaced.

"The circumstances surrounding my death in this world did not allow me to hide my death from the general public and thus it would be difficult to reinstate one of my successors into my job without some backlash." His fingers fished a Wisteria flower out of her hair.

It was sad to think that the gods that were entrusted in governing the universe were little more than bored children seeking entertainment in the misery of the very beings they were supposed to be watching over. They couldn't possible have a conscience or any human morals whatsoever if they were more concerned about watching a petty squabble between enemies rather than fixing holes in humanity.

Then again, it wasn't her place to judge them since she wasn't a god herself.

Abruptly, she stood up on the balls of her feet and avoided falling forward onto her face. Ryuuzaki watched her in mild interest as he tilted his gaze upwards towards her.

"I'm not going to let this idiot kill you. Dead or not, Ryuuzaki, you're still human and you sure as hell don't deserve this. Let's go get this bastard and bring him to justice, alright?" She silently scolded herself for the fake happy-go-lucky attitude she seemed to have adopted but pushed that thought aside as she thrust her hand towards him.

Ryuuzaki's eyes were full as he grasped her hand in that germophobic way of his.

And there might have been a flicker of a smile in those full eyes of his.

Even the world's greatest detective needed a pep talk sometimes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** Blame Izaya Orihara for this delayed update. I think I've developed a bit of an unhealthy obsession for IzayaxNamie... I'm fairly disheartened that there aren't many fics for this wonderfully cracked pairing.**

_El amor es ciego – Love is blind._

**Thanks to everyone that reviewed, anonymous or otherwise. I'd watch Jenna if I were you, there's a reason I'm spending so much time on her.**

**Review?**


	21. Inner Affliction and Fireworks

Kill one to warn a hundred.

-Chinese Proverb

Disclaimer: I obviously lack the magnificent genius of Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, thus I do not own Death Note.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-One: Inner Affliction and Fireworks<strong>

There was a minute one point twenty-four percent chance that his deduction skills had been impaired since his death and a significant ninety-eight point seventy-six percent chance that he had not lost any of his skill since his momentary lapse in consciousness.

He had chosen the word death because, in all truth, Light Yagami had never truly defeated him in the first place. Though Light Yagami did not receive the full extent of his wrath until some time after his supposed end, nonetheless it was because of his overly cautious and paranoid nature that the world's most infamous serial killer had been brought to justice by his handpicked successors.

But there was still that one point twenty-four percent. That small margin of error that he had graciously given himself since the day he had realized that he was, in fact, human and thus prone to err just like the rest of mankind.

It seemed that with every case he undertook that small, insignificant number augmented.

The LABB case.

The Kira case; the case that inevitably killed him but he had solved nonetheless.

And now, this case.

L did not believe in the supernatural thus it was logical to reassure himself that Light Yagami had cheated and that was why L had been killed before proving the man's guilt.

He did not like to lose after all.

"I'm not going to let this idiot kill you. Dead or not, Ryuuzaki, you're still human and you sure as hell don't deserve this. Let's go get this bastard and bring him to justice, alright?" If Touta Matsuda had had a love child with an American woman with an alcoholic addiction and clairvoyant abilities, he was sure that Ms. Wynter would be their child.

At times, he noticed the praise she would begrudgingly shove at him. The way her eyes would sparkle in admiration before souring into contempt.

She was still too naïve; she didn't understand that he was merely childish and hated to lose.

That he had been using justice as an excuse to exact revenge on the very man that killed him.

But whenever she graciously gave him the award of world's greatest detective, he could not help but to feel guilty and ashamed.

If he had truly been the world's greatest detective, then he would have never died.

Light would have never been resurrected.

Watari and countless others would have never died.

She was still too naïve. Too oblivious. Too human.

He was human as well, but the line between human and detective had never really existed.

Maybe it was that small, insignificant percentage that made him worry.

Made him worry that the next phase of the plan would result in more casualties. Casualties that would have otherwise been frivolous if he had been more detective than human.

After all, detectives would not feel guilt nor did they ever submit to their enemies.

Humans made mistakes, they worried and eventually died just like everything else in this world.

And he was no exception to this even if he had been resurrected once he had been informed that this would not be possible again. That if he did fail, there was no backup. No plan B.

Before the Kira case, L was sure that this would not have mattered. That this detail would have remained merely as a footnote that he would file away later but would not hinder his deduction skills at all.

Now there were one point twenty-four reasons to mull over that weighty detail.

But he had countless other reasons not to.

He stoically pushed that thought aside as he did so many other things.

He had an ego he would have to avenge.

* * *

><p>The fourth of July, seemingly just another day on everywhere else on the planet, but to Wynter and so many other Americans this day was so much more. It was a day that the cynic and the trailer trash, the executive and the garbage man and so many others would revel in the glory of their country and enjoy their day filled with grills and alcohol.<p>

But unfortunately, no one else in the gargantuan mansion seemed to share the same mentality as she did. She wasn't expecting them to burst out into song or belt out the Pledge of Allegiance at the top of their lungs. She then realized that there was a large possibility that none of the gang were even American citizens at all. And an even bigger chance that they probably didn't care.

Wynter had been born into a proud American family. One that was proud of its country despite said country's tendency to skimp out on Social Security and stick its nose in countries that coincidentally had large oil reservoirs. Although there were many, many reasons for Americans to harbor contempt for their own country, that feeling of patriotism was infectious and it just made people feel good about their roots. It made them feel better that they were part of a country that had stood for everything that was right. Even if it may have lost most of its ideals as the years went by.

Nonetheless, Wynter had an ultimatum for her. . . associates.

"Fireworks?" Wynter bit her cheek to nip the embarrassment that began to creep unto her face. In her twenty-two years of existence, she had never skipped out fireworks. Ever. It was a die-hard tradition and something that she was rather proud of.

So to save the last of her dwindling dignity, she nodded.

"Ms. Wynter, you do realize that we are in the middle of an investigation and this is not. . ." Ryuuzaki began to drone. He had seemingly chosen to ignore whatever awkwardly touching moment that two had shared outside. Wynter wasn't necessarily angry but she was rather disheartened how easily Ryuuzaki seemed to flow between the two personae. The fragile, socially incompetent man and the cold, analytical detective.

"I'm not asking for some NASA rockets, dammit, I just want some sparklers or something." She mumbled as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, attempting to stare down the very gaze that gave her the chills.

Ryuuzaki was silent and as the minutes ticked by, Wynter began to wonder if he had simply chosen to ignore her.

"Nothing loud or outrageously distracting." He finally relented. Wynter blinked in a combination of amazement and bitter mirth.

_Doesn't the man know that fireworks are notoriously loud and distracting? _

As Wynter mused over that thought for a few seconds, another intruded her bubble.

_Has Ryuuzaki ever lit a firework before? Has he ever seen one?_

Wynter glanced at Near, the perpetually silent albino was stacking blocks for the billionth time. He was sixteen but still played with children's toys. And Wynter was rather unsure whether he was to stay that height forever, surely puberty had merely been delayed.

If Ryuuzaki was cold then Near was absolute zero.

Hell, she probably preferred Mello to Near. At least Mello made sense in a warped sort of way, there was obviously something that made Mello tick. But Near, on the other hand, seemed as lifeless as the tiles he sat upon.

_What the hell happened to these people?_

They were probably beyond help and Wynter had always been bit of a pessimist rather than an optimist anyways. She wasn't the type to pity, and she was far from a philanthropist.

But maybe if she taught them how to live, there might still be hope for the world's greatest detective and his successors.

Unless, of course, it was too late.

* * *

><p>"¡Mija! Vamos a la casa de tu abuelos. ¿Estás segura que no quieres ir con nosotros?"<p>

Funny how her mother would ask her the same question every year as though she didn't know what Jenna's reply would be.

"Sí, mamá. Voy a salir con Lea." She muttered.

Her mother walked into the room with a strange expression on her face. Jenna swallowed her bitterness as she donned an appropriate nonchalant face. Her mother was wearing a shirt with cut off capris while carrying a beach bag. Her grandparents lived in an apartment complex a couple minutes away and the family always went there to swim, especially on the fourth of July.

"¿Te sientes enferma?" Her mother questioned worriedly before placing her palm on Jenna's forehead. Jenna resisted the urge to smack her mother away and put an exasperated look on her face.

"I'm fine, mamá." She rolled her eyes.

To her surprise her mother smirked, "Es un chico, ¿no?"

"No, mamá." Jenna quietly bit her tongue. Since when the hell had her mom become this perceptive?

Wait, why was she worrying? It wasn't like Donovan actually counted. The psychopath couldn't possibly be described as merely _un chico_.

"¿Por qué dice eso?" Jenna calmly answered.

"Una madre siempre sabe." Her mother chuckled before leaving the room.

Was she so transparent that even her mother could see right through her?

Maybe she was just over thinking the situation. Her mother had always teased her about the opposite sex, so why was it so surprising for her to assume that she was thinking about a boy?

Why was she so worried again?

Even if she was meeting up with Lea later to go see the fireworks like they always did.

Even if a certain cutter might be there because the object of his obsessions had chosen to show up as well.

Even if she knew she wasn't the object of his obsessions.

Even if Juanita wanted otherwise.

Jenna didn't care.

* * *

><p>"Where's Ash?" Jenna stifled a yawn as she lounged in Lea's living room. The air was positively frigid inside, a stark contrast to the one-hundred plus degree weather Mother Nature had gifted to California.<p>

"I guess her parents took her to some family reunion in Georgia or something. She won't be back until the end of the summer." Lea answered casually as she flipped through some black notebook.

"What's that?" Jenna asked offhandedly.

"Oh, this? It's nothing just some journal my mother gave to me." Lea calmly replied as she carefully set the notebook down on the kitchen counter.

"Listen, Jen, I'm going to take a shower." Lea called as Jenna heard her move upstairs to her room.

"Okay." Jenna yelled in reply as her eyes remained glued to the TV.

Her eyes flickered to the notebook that Lea had left on the kitchen counter.

Jenna had always been rather nosy and she partly blamed it on her heritage. Her family wasn't the type to keep secrets from each other, though Jenna was probably the exception to the rule and her mother always had a habit of sticking her nose in where it didn't belong. It was only natural that Jenna would pick up the same behavior.

Quietly, she strolled over to the journal resting innocently on the counter top.

_Death Note? That's a strange title for a journal._

Jenna fidgeted as she quickly looked around before opening the book with a trembling hand.

** The human whose name is written in this note shall die.**

_God of Death?_

_ Mu?_

_ W-what is this?_

Jenna stared in shock at the list of names. She wasn't sure how long she stood there as her eyes drank in the pages.

The sound of footsteps kick-started her own frozen heart as she quietly shut the book and sprinted back in front of the TV.

She had to tell Donovan.

* * *

><p>Wynter felt a childish grin tickle her face as she ogled the packages in glee. She had asked Mello to buy the fireworks and was rather curious as to which ones he would buy. Wynter had blatantly ignored Ryuuzaki's rule of quiet and non-distracting. Though it had taken a certain amount of bribing on her part, Mello had agreed to purchase the "contraband" without much complaint. Maybe she had found a fellow pyrophile after all.<p>

It was rather late, but Wynter could hear the faint booming and crackles in the air. The entire country was probably lighting up and celebrating.

She gave Mello her consent to light the larger ones as she trusted Matt to keep his friend's arsonist tendencies at bay.

"Here you go, Near." Wynter thrust a bunch of kiddy sparklers into the boy's hands. He blankly stared at them before looking at her. Calmly, Wynter lit the ends and waited for the sparklers to spit bright colors. Near held the sparklers limply as though they were rotting twigs.

She had even dragged Ryuuzaki outside for the occasion despite his constant whining. Though it had taken two apple pies and a cake frosted in red, white and blue. She sat next to him as he gorged on the sweets.

"Look, Ryuuzaki!" She effectively elbowed him in the stomach as Mello shot off the first one.

She would look back at him from time to time and see the fireworks reflected in his eyes.

"Hey, Ryuuzaki." She was rather quiet as the fireworks easily overpowered her in sound.

He slowly turned his gaze to her after shoving another spoonful of cinnamon and apple into his mouth.

"Thanks." She declined to fully entail what she was thanking him for. But she felt as though it wasn't really necessary since she wasn't exactly sure why she was thanking him in the first place.

Their arms were slightly touching as they sat side by side.

Maybe this wasn't the only universe that she had known Ryuuzaki.

And maybe, just maybe, there was a universe in which both of them were happy.

She just wasn't sure if it was this one.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Remember that Jenna was never explicitly told about the Death Note. She was merely given a piece of paper and told to write upon it. Donovan was told even less information.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

¡Mija! Vamos a la casa de tu abuelos. ¿Estás segura que no quieres ir con nosotros? – My daughter! We are going to your grandparents' house. Are you sure that you don't want to come with us?

Sí, mamá. Voy a salir con Lea. - Yes, mom. I'm going out with Lea.

¿Te sientes enferma? - Are you feeling sick?

Es un chico, ¿no? - It's a boy, isn't it?

¿Por qué dice eso? - Why do you say that?

Una madre siempre sabe. - A mother always knows.


	22. Death Wishes and Shattered Memories

'Cause we're all a bunch of animals/

That never paid attention in school/

So tell me about your problems/

I was killing before killing was cool . . .

- "Kill All Your Friends" by My Chemical Romance

Disclaimer: Go away.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two: Death Wishes and Shattered Memories<br>**

"Wynter!" It was like someone had taken a chalkboard and bashed it against her skull. Repeatedly.

Had she gotten smashed again?

She released a groan that resembled a roar as her limbs twitched in response but refused to move. It was dark; the kind of dark that made you shit your pants in the middle of the night because you were expecting someone to creep up behind you and slit your throat. The kind of dark that was specifically reserved for desolate alleyways and the slums. Her eyes wouldn't adjust to the lack of light; if felt like she had just dumped her head into a bucket of black paint.

Was this a repeat of that dream?

"Wynter!" The sound was more like an angry whisper that was quickly gaining strength.

Where was she? This wasn't the mansion, was it?

"Wynter!" The voice sounded slightly more desperate, slightly more exasperated.

And where the hell was that voice coming from? Who was it? What was it?

The light felt like a blade that sliced her eyeballs open; it was so powerful that she could feel her eyes frying in its presence.

But from that light came that woman, that woman she had dreamed of earlier. The woman with the waning smile that gave Wynter both the chills and aggravated her underlying contempt. That woman looked so untouchable, so otherworldly. Wynter was afraid of looking directly at her lest she turned into a pillar of salt or something.

"It's about time, kid." Her voice was a lot scratchier than she would have expected. It was the voice of a chain smoker, someone that had obviously built up tar in their lungs on a daily basis. But it had that sense of familiarity, it awarded the perfect creature with a human flaw.

"Time for what?" Wynter spat back. She wanted answers, dammit, and she was going to get them this time.

"It's about time somebody told you the truth. The whole truth." The woman snapped her fingers and instantly Wynter was aware of the fatigue on her body. It felt like she had just been trampled by a horde of obese elephants after running a marathon.

Wynter wobbled before standing hunched over. "Who the hell are you?"

The woman smiled, though the light cast shadows on her face distorting the facial expression. "Wrong question."

Wynter's eyelid twitched in irritation, "What the hell do you mean 'wrong question'? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"You got Hilda's spunk, I'll give you that." The woman rummaged through her robes before finding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She raised in eyebrow in question and Wynter wrinkled her nose.

Wynter's eyes widened. _Hilda, as in Great-Aunt Hilda? How does she know her? _

"The right question is," the woman spoke as she lit the cancer stick, "_what_ the hell are you."

She released a puff of smoke into the air as it was vaporized by the light.

* * *

><p>Kira inwardly smiled as he watched Jenna's confused face while she skimmed the contents of the Death Note. He was currently invisible and watching overhead on the kitchen ceiling in amusement. Jenna had eagerly entered the little game he had set up; Kira had told Lea to leave the Death Note out in the open. He had known that her curious personality would force her to look through Lea's alleged "journal" and lead her to discover the Death Note.<p>

Ah, it was rather silly really, how the two humans believed that they possessed the power to kill _him_, a god of death. Not to mention a god of death that was destined to dethrone the current King of Death and enslave both realms to his might. He had known of their alliance since that buffoon's funeral, he had thought it was rather suspicious that Donovan would drag Jenna away from the crowd. Especially since the dimwit was supposed to be in love with Lea.

He was thankful that the current King of Death had granted him basic powers despite depriving him of the Shinigami eyes, it gave him quite the advantage over Ryuuzaki.

_Ryuuzaki. _

He had originally planned for Donovan to locate their headquarters and plant a bomb in the building. But since it had become obvious that the location would never be found he would have to resort to other motives.

Kira wondered what was the full extent of the King of Death's powers. If the King of Death had been able to resurrect both Ryuuzaki and himself, was it not plausible that he could do the same again? Would he ever _truly_ rid himself of Ryuuzaki?

But he would muse over that some other day, he had more important things that requested his attention.

For now, he'd let the the idiots live. Just until he found that girl that had accompanied Ryuuzaki to the party.

Then he'd toss them like the pathetic trash they were.

* * *

><p><em>Whoever this douche is, he definitely knows his shit.<em>

He had been tracking this guy for nearly a month now, and he was no closer than when he first started. But he wasn't going to give up. Lea, the very reason for his life, was relying on him for the first time ever. He had no intention of letting her down; he would find this guy even if it the trail led him to the depths of hell.

It was quiet in his lair without Jenna. Not that he preferred her company or anything, she was still eons away from Lea. But still, he admitted it was nice to know that you weren't the only breathing thing in the entire house sometimes. His parents were on some dream vacation in Europe or something and their estimated time of return was probably never.

Not that he minded, his parents were always overly protective, though it that was likely due to the bullying he went through. His mom would have been extremely awkward about Jenna coming over, he wasn't sure why he still needed babysitting. It wasn't like he was going to betray them or anything (well, he was planning on killing Daniel but that's besides the point). He wouldn't even think of double-crossing Lea. Ever. And as for Jenna, well, he didn't really see the need to. Sure, Jenna was a whale of a bitch but she never really did anything other than insult his intelligence or sanity or appearance. He had been taking verbal shots all his life and saw Jenna more as a sparring partner than a threat.

Daniel, on the other hand, was a roach that deserved the most gruesome death imaginable. No, he was lower than a roach, he was a fucking shit maggot.

What the hell did Lea see in the guy anyways?

He had probably been lying to her face since the time they had first met.

So why did she trust that maggot more than him?

Donovan had sworn to commit suicide before betraying Lea. He wouldn't even think of committing such a blasphemous action.

"Donovan!" He jerked his head to the door and found a rather distraught Jenna leaning against the door frame, visibly shaking from fear or something similar.

"What's shaking, whale?" He leered at her. Verbally abusing each other had become a sort of twisted game between the two of them. He would be lying if he said he didn't exactly enjoy it.

"Donovan." She merely repeated, Donovan took a second to look into her eyes. Honestly, he had never seen her this. . . broken before. He remembered her reaction at Cole's funeral; the innocent, lamb-like fear that clung to her eyes and made her shiver in terror. He felt off-balance looking into those horrified eyes of hers.

"What is it, Jenna?" He felt fear for half a second, had Daniel found out? Had Lea somehow found out?

She simply continued to shiver. He rose out of his chair and grabbed Jenna by her shoulders, attempting to force some sense into the mumbling girl.

"Jenna?" He whispered silently, wondering whether she would ever answer him.

"What if. . .what if Daniel isn't human?" Jenna asked, her voice cracked from the sheer strength of the underlying emotion buried deep within her throat. Donovan could tell that saying those words probably felt like pure agony.

"It's going to be okay." He murmured.

When had he become her personal soother? Wasn't he fucked up like she always said? When had their relationship transcended into something intangible? They were fighting, always fighting. He's never given her a kind word in his life so where the hell did this come from?

How the hell did this happen? He loved Lea, dammit.

Lea, the untainted. The goddess.

Not Jenna, the mundane. The human.

He quickly shoved her away, "You're fucking losing it, Jen. Go drink some tequila or some shit, I don't have time for this."

Unrequited love hurt like a bitch.

He would know, of course.

* * *

><p>". . .Go drink some tequila or some shit, I don't have time for this."<p>

**See, I told you he's a bastard.**

_But, he said, "It's going to be okay"!_

** Can't you see what he's doing? He's fucking with you.**

_But! He's like us, can't you see?_

**What the hell is this "us"? There's only Jenna.**

_I'm still here! I still exist!_

**Not for long.**

_You can't get rid of me. There is no Jenna without Juanita._

**Ha, you actually believe that? Just 'cause you survived once, doesn't mean you're invincible!**

_You need me._

**Fine, have fun with your cutter. **

_He's the same!_

**There's nothing wrong with me! You're the problem.**

_We need him._

**I only need Lea. I only need justice. I only need myself.**

No te necesito.

* * *

><p><em>"You got Hilda's spunk, I'll give you that."<em>

This person knew Great-Aunt Hilda, where had she seen those dark tresses before? Where had she seen that same waning smile? _Where?_

"Grandma?" She blurted out like some confused fool.

"It's nice to see Michael didn't raise an idiot." Her mouth twisted into a one-sided leer. Wynter flinched at her father's name. "Of course, no kid named after _moi_ could ever be stupid."

"Where am I? What the hell happened? Am I. . . dead?" Wynter could barely swallow that last word.

"Calm your jets, kiddo. One step at a time." She began as she tugged on Wynter's wrist, steadily dragging her towards the source of light and onto a . . . porch?

Sure enough, they were on a porch in some unknown town. It was probably late summer for Wynter could hear the cicadas chirping in the near distance. There was something compelling about the colors of the scene before her, everything seemed so crisp yet so blurred. It felt like she was looking through someone else's eyes.

"Where the hell am I?" Wynter questioned, her what-the-fuck-meter at an all time high.

"We're currently in one of my memories." Her grandmother answered after sucking at her cancer stick.

"This is what happens after we die? We relive our memories over and over?" Wynter's head turned to her grandmother.

"Essentially, there's supposed to be nothing after death since it's the last thing. None. Nada. Zilch. But for special souls, the gods like to make an exception." Her grandmother coughed irritably.

"Special?" Wynter raised her eyebrows.

"Those of us that provided entertainment." Her words were markedly bitter, Wynter noticed.

"What memory is this?" Wynter asked softly, she wasn't sure why but the resentment emanating from her grandmother was scaring her just a tad.

"You'll see soon enough." Her words were exasperated as if she had seen every detail there ever was to see of this memory.

A black car with official logos and cool demeanor pulled up in the front of the house. Two policemen wearing droopy mustaches and fatigued expressions clomped their way up the porch steps and to the front door. The taller one knocked on the door and Wynter heard a rustling within the house before the door opened. A woman, the younger version of her grandmother stood behind the ajar door while wiping her hands on her apron.

"Mrs. Walcott?"

"Yes?" She was so young, Wynter noticed.

"We'd like you to come down to the morgue; we think we found your son."

"D-david?" Her voice cracked and tears fell like raindrops.

Wynter shifted her head to look at her grandmother donned in white robes. Her face was so nonplussed as though this was a daily occurrence. Was she forced to relive the day of her son's death over and over?

Her family didn't like talking about Uncle David. She remembered her father calling him a crackpot with complete disregard to responsibility. He had disappeared at the age of seventeen without so much as a letter. They found his smiling corpse washed up on the shores of Lake Michigan.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"You know what my greatest regret was? The fact that I could have stopped this."

"What do you mean? You can't blame yourself! It wasn't your fault that he drowned himself." Wynter whispered. She had pieced the clues over the years with the tidbits of information Great-Aunt Hilda would occasionally relieve.

"It's because of me that he got those powers. It's because of me that he went insane. I knew this was going to happen." She spoke as if the words weighed a ton in her mouth.

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Wynter questioned incredulously.

"You can't stop fate." Her grandmother reached for another cigarette within her robes.

"Let me get this straight, you let your son _die_ because of something as stupid as _fate_?" Wynter accused as she stared at her younger grandmother sobbing from grief.

"Fate's not stupid, kid. It's the stuff directing the show. And don't think that I didn't wish otherwise. He was my son. There's just some things that can't be avoided."

"How do we know what we _can_ change?" Wynter muttered as she watched the policemen walk away from the porch, their head hung in guilt.

"Now, that's the right question, kid."

* * *

><p>She had been on her way back to Utah for the anniversary of her nephew David's suicide. It had always been a bitter day, and the California sun completely ignored the bleak mood Hilda had felt. Her sister had never been quite the same after David died. It wasn't especially obvious but Hilda had known her sister for quite some time. She picked up on the little things.<p>

Like the way she would neglect Michael. Maybe that was why the boy turned out so rotten, maybe that was why the boy distrusted anything that reminded him of his deceased elder brother. Maybe that was why he shunned his own daughter because his mother deprived him of affection.

She could be blamed as well, she supposed. She simply stood by while her family imploded on itself.

She fingered the letter that was in her coat pocket. The letter that she was supposed to give to her great-niece.

Why did her sister have to be so goddamned cryptic? How was she supposed to know when the right time was? When was she supposed to give her the letter?

Hilda had never questioned her sister and vice versa. They had silently accepted each other's faults and virtues. Her sister had never once tried to make her more lady-like or become an acceptable woman as their mother often tried to. And it was Hilda that would listen to her as she rambled on about her nightmares.

Hilda had always been a listener.

But she wasn't necessarily a good one.

She never once questioned her sister nor her great-niece about their dreams. To be honest, she didn't want to know more than she already did. She was perfectly fine in the dark as she was.

Hilda's eyes shifted to the passenger seat. Rufus had been absent for a while.

The first couple of weeks she didn't think much of it since Rufus possessed a moderate degree of intelligence and could find his way home on his own. Rufus was a tough character much like herself. She had found him as a stray and the two had been inseparable ever since.

She wondered when her great-niece would remember her existence. Not that she was worried or anything. She had raised her after all. Not to mention that she was a grown woman, fully capable of handling situations without guidance. But Hilda didn't like the feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach.

She blamed it on heartburn, of course.

But most of all, she wondered when she would see her sister. Hilda detested being old. Her elderly stature had deprived her of so many things. She could no longer thrill seek like she used to. She was no longer the famed daredevil of the family.

Her time was near, that much was certain.

So when her vision suddenly faded to black, she felt a rush of emotions.

Funny, how easily fate seemed to grant wishes of death.

Especially if those wishes were welcome.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Congrats to LaHenrietta for noticing the plot twist ahead of schedule!**

** No te necesito. - I don't need you.**

** Why was Donovan's POV so damn hard to write? **

** Blame the delayed update on **Deadman Wonderland. **It's too damn addictive.**

** Deicide's reaching its end. This chapter was unedited. Again. I'll probably go back and edit later.**

** Predictions?**


	23. The Sound of Knells

Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.

-Unknown Author

Disclaimer: As a wise man once proclaimed, "Bitches gonna bitch; haters gonna hate."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three: The Sound of Knells<strong>

The bells, oddly enough, were something Ryuuzaki had come to rely on. Even postmortem.

They were and always would be his only constant.

As a child they became his figurative security blanket that reminded him that he still existed and still held relevance.

But they were the only mystery he could never quite solve.

"A funeral, perhaps?" He softly murmured to himself as he indulged in another gourmet pastry. His gaze was locked on the screen before him and watched the girl enter the house with obvious trepidation.

The girl's name was Juanita Eva Maria Bautista or "Jenna" as her friends called her. She had been a close associate of Lea Reynolds for nearly a decade and Ryuuzaki suspected her to be cause of the Astraea tape since the method had been marginally different than Astraea's usual killings.

He had sent Mello to tail her and there was a seventy-four percent chance that the blonde would kidnap her on his own accord. Not that Ryuuzaki particularly cared so as long Mello did not come into harm's way. That and he did not believe that this girl possessed enough Light's trust to be significant in any way. There was a large possibility that she had been kept in the dark and would not give any new information.

The person Ryuuzaki was much more interested in was Lea Reynolds. But he would first have to find an opportunity when Light was not haunting her. But since Ryuuzaki was fairly sure that Light Yagami did not, in fact, possess the Shinigami eyes and thus required a face _and _ a name. It was plausible to some degree to capture Lea and perhaps locate the Death Note and successfully obtain possession of it.

He believed that this madness would only end if that infernal note was in his hands.

Ryuuzaki found himself wishing that Light had not retained his degree of intelligence during his resurrection. If only he had acquired the same mentality as the other Shinigami.

If he had received Rem's mindset, there was a chance of him manipulating Light to use the Death Note to save his charge, Lea Reynolds.

Not to mention if he had been given Ryuuk's nature, he could possibly bribe him with apples.

But those were merely wishes that he simply could not indulge in.

* * *

><p>"Lea, darling, is there anything you want to discuss?" It was the morning of that man's funeral. The same man, that this woman insisted was her father. Just like she insisted she was Lea's mother.<p>

Lea shook her head.

The woman had been spouting nonsense about therapy and grief counseling for the past hour and half while Lea would obediently nod at the appropriate intervals. Honestly, Lea just wanted this woman to leave her alone and shut her trap for once and for all.

Lea's eyes flickered to the woman dressed in complete black and was probably practicing her grieving face in the mirror. Lea herself was wearing a simple black dress and had been silently contemplating her next move.

_How does one act at a stranger's funeral?_

They were all strangers, Lea had concluded long ago. They didn't know her and she didn't know them. She wasn't their daughter and they weren't her parents.

There were so many people at the funeral and all of them claimed to be a part of that man's life.

So many strangers dressed in black.

Lea was used to lies; she didn't think any less of anyone who did so but these strangers were all liars. They didn't know the man; they only knew the corpse.

The eulogies were long and vague; it was like everything was impersonal like everyone that had shown up were merely acquaintances instead of the close-knit family they claimed to be. She could hear faint murmuring and the sounds of expensive shoes scuffing themselves on the funeral parlor's hardwood floor.

All of those fake emotions and crocodile tears made Lea sick.

It had been an open casket ceremony, and the man had been laid out in clothes that she didn't remember with a face she had never seen.

_Why was she there? Why was anyone there?_

_ Why does no one look sad?_

For a split second, she imagined her own funeral.

The neutral faces, the fake tears, the empty eulogies. Were all funerals like this? Did no one ever care?

Or was this simply a stranger's funeral?

And what of her children? Would they be strangers too?

Would her husband be too busy rejoicing over the life insurance money he'd gain instead of the grief he should have felt?

She didn't want to die that way.

Lea had always been selfish. She wanted people to grieve, to scream at the heavens in sadness when it came time for her own end. She didn't want this pathetic death; if anything she'd rather go out with a bang.

Even if that bang was short-lived.

But most of all, she didn't want to die among strangers.

* * *

><p>"Wynter, are you aware of Ryuuzaki's true motives?" The sun had already fallen in her grandmother's memory but the two were still lounging on porch in lawn chairs.<p>

"Something about justice right? He acts like he's a saint." Wynter replied innocently puzzled at her grandmother's question.

"And you believed that bullshit?" Her grandmother snorted rather amused.

Wynter's eyes narrowed in disbelief, "Alright then, you tell me why the man's dead set on catching Kira."

"Did he ever tell you that he failed? That in reality, he had to resort to using his back up successors? That for a while Kira had actually taken his place as L?" Wynter looked away as she mulled over the new information. Ryuuzaki had told her that he had been killed by Kira but he had never mentioned anything about Kira taking his place as L.

"I don't believe you." She didn't want to believe it. L was supposed to be incorruptible. Perfect. The world's greatest detective. One of the smartest people that had ever existed. Ever. He wouldn't allow some mass murderer to stand in his place.

"So he didn't tell you that he's just doing this for revenge? This isn't like last time how Kira managed to kill innocent people among the guilty. Astraea has yet to kill one innocent person, is letting her win that bad? Think about it." Her grandmother exclaimed.

"Do you even know why Ryuuzaki came to you?" She looked at Wynter in curiosity.

"He said something about you knowing his caretaker, and that's how he knew about my dreams." Wynter stared at the glass of lemonade in her hand and at the picturesque neighborhood around her. This place set her on edge.

It was too perfect and reminded her too much of her father.

"Well, at least he didn't blatantly lie to your face." Her grandmother replied.

"What do you mean?" She almost didn't want to ask. Wynter wasn't sure whether knowing the truth was necessarily a good thing.

"There's another reason why he came to you." She leisurely took another drag. "There was a bet made among the gods and a part of it involves you."

"A bet?" She was whispering to herself now.

"They get bored, and who can blame 'em? When you can do practically anything, you lose to will to do anything. They've become lethargic and addicted to gambling on things that they themselves can't control."

Wynter began to notice that the colors were too sharp for a memory. Especially one that had been created over two decades ago.

"What was the bet?" The lemonade was too tangy. Too sour.

"Two men (though one is nearly a god) and both are striving for justice or at least they claim to. You'd be surprised how many gods of death don't actually like their own kind."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I was one of those who bet." Her grandmother chose to look away from Wynter. "If L wins, you'll keep your powers."

"And if he loses?"

"You'll be the way your father always wanted." Wynter choked in surprise.

"Who do you want to win?" Her voice was breathy, almost shaking from emotion.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter who I want to win. The key thing is who _you _want to win."

The glass of lemonade fell onto the wooden porch and shattered into inconceivably small pieces.

"Looks like Hilda's finally here."

* * *

><p>Dying was a lot like waiting in an obnoxiously long line in the supermarket.<p>

Everything was well-lit and white. There were people shuffling to places but nowhere to go. And they were murmuring things to themselves.

_She's waiting for me..._

_ I'll be late again._

_ Where is it?_

_ I still have to..._

And the background music was hypnotic. It made Hilda forget things.

Like where she was and how she got there. And why this letter in her coat was so important.

_Why was she here again?_

"Hilda Walcott? Hilda Walcott?" There was a tinny voice calling her name. At least she thought her name was Hilda Walcott.

"There's someone who wants to see you." The man who called her name looked tired. The bags under his eyes dropped to his chin and his eyes were sunken deep within his skull.

"Someone by the name of Wynter Walcott."

The man was mistaken, there were actually two people that came to see her.

They were both halves of the same mirror.

* * *

><p>"I see you're wearing those earrings I gave you." A small smile was plastered on her grandmother's face.<p>

There were a lot of things that told Wynter that this wasn't real. Her deceased grandmother was busy contributing to smog and her Great-Aunt was wearing earrings.

Both of which would ordinarily be impossible but, since this was a dream, Wynter supposed that impossible didn't quite exist.

Hilda simply squinted at her sister for a good two minutes. It was like she was staring at a reflection of the sun and her eyes were lying to her.

"Hilda, do you know why you're here?" That smile made Wynter sick.

"Hell yeah, I know." Hilda rolled her eyes, "It's David's anniversary, isn't it?"

Her grandmother shook her head, "Hilda, you died."

"Huh. So I guess we both ended up in hell, didn't we?" Hilda shrugged as she reached for cigarette. Her grandmother chuckled as Hilda took another drag.

"How can you be so goddamn calm? Don't listen to her. She's lying! There's no way, you can be dead. This is just another dream!" Her shoulders were shaking while she bellowed at the two women she had always respected.

"Let me tell you something kid, there will be a day when you realize you can't wake up." Another smoke cloud rose to the air. "And on that day, you'll also realize that you are inconceivably _fucked_."

"And on that day no amount of alcohol will ever help you." It was like her grandmother was speaking from experience.

"Wynter, my will's in the safe at the bank. There's also a letter in my coat that you need to read. Oh, and remember to feed Rufus when the bastard finally shows up."

"You are not dead!" She shouted every word, every syllable.

"Whatever you say kid. Whatever you say." Came her chuckling response.

* * *

><p>She didn't scream when she woke up. But she wanted to.<p>

She wanted to shriek her guts out after smashing something into pieces. So that maybe she'll feel a little better after _whatever_ that just was. Wynter knew she needed comfort, she needed closure.

She needed to make sure that Great-Aunt Hilda was still alive and well.

She needed to make sure that she was still okay.

That she still knew the difference between dreams and reality.

That whatever just happened didn't actually happen and that she didn't have to choose between Ryuuzaki and normalcy.

Because at the current moment, she was scared of making the wrong decision for the right reasons. She feverishly paced the length of her bedroom.

_Okay, Wynter, think. If Hilda was dead, it would have to be recent. Since there's no calls from Mom and Dad, she must not have died in Utah. That probably means that she's still here in California. The news would have covered any accidents in the surrounding areas so all I have to do is check the news._

She felt a little too rational for someone that may have just seen her newly deceased Great-Aunt. It was probably due to the fact that she felt so sure. So sure that Hilda wasn't dead, that she wouldn't have to choose between Ryuuzaki and herself and so sure that she was still okay. That everything was still okay.

_Hilda isn't dead. _ It became her mantra that kept her going.

She stuck her head out her door to check the hallways. For some odd reason she felt extremely paranoid like the other occupants of the mansion knew that she had to choose between them and herself. Almost like they were suspicious of her choosing betrayal over their supposed justice.

No one chose to acknowledge her presence when she arrived in the headquarters. Ryuuzaki and Near were discussing something that she didn't understand. Perhaps she didn't want to understand since she just had one goal in mind.

For the next twenty minutes of her existence, she simply surfed the local news channels for anything that may hint towards Hilda's death.

"Here I am on location of yesterday's crash site which tragically stole the life of an elderly woman and two others as well as creating a virtual 'carmaggedon' throughout the area. A small service had been held earlier today. . ."

Once she obtained the location of the cemetery where the bodies had been buried, Wynter calmly proceeded to walk out the front door only to be stopped by Ryuuzaki's monotone.

_Hilda isn't dead._

"Ms. Wynter, what are you doing?" She wondered if he knew, if he had known that it would come down to her choosing between him and her powers.

"There's something I need to check." Her voice was ineffably soft and serene.

_Hilda isn't dead._

"I can not allow you to leave the premises at this time, there is too much at stake for you to . . ."

"Did you know?" She cut him off without warning as she balled her hands into fists.

"Ms. Wynter, may I. . ."

"Did you know that I would have to choose between you and myself?"

He paused for a while before replying, "Yes, I knew."

"Did you have any intention of telling me?" She was perfectly still but she could feel her fingernails digging into her palm.

"No." He sighed.

"So you fed me lies! This doesn't have anything to do with justice, does it? You're even deceiving yourself with your own lies! And here I thought you might actually be some kind of saint but it turns out to be just another act. Justice? Ha! You're doing this for revenge! You can't stand the fact that the very man who killed you isn't dead." Her word were bitter and sharp.

"And then, in the name of 'justice', you kidnapped me because you knew that if Kira found me first that there was a chance you would lose again. How much of your story was true, Ryuuzaki? Was any of it true?" She had begun to cry as the tears trailed down her cheeks sloppily.

He was silent while she viciously attacked him. He was silent throughout all the insults, hysteria and frustration.

"Let me opt out, Ryuuzaki. Let me choose neither. I don't want to be a part of this anymore." When she received no answer, Wynter looked away and began to stomp towards the exit.

The room was filled with the sounds of her heavy yet determined steps. She pointedly avoided glancing at his successors.

"Hey," Mello called in his stern, masculine voice.

She looked at him expecting another fight even though she wasn't quite up for one.

There wasn't one.

Wynter caught the keys he threw with ease and nodded.

Maybe Mello wasn't quite the misanthrope she had always thought.

And maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for Ryuuzaki to be the saint she had always thought him to be.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Super special thanks to: WhiteLadyDragon, royailight, Katamabob, Spirit-Of-The-Rain and TheAdventuresJustBeginning.**

** The end is nigh.**


	24. The Echoes of an Empty Soul

[The violence playing my song/

The orchestra of flesh and bone/

Turn it up, it turns me on/

It makes me feel like I belong/

Your world opens up and swallows me/

I'm empty. . . /

Just another silent symphony. . .]

Breath Carolina, _I Have To Go Return Some Videotapes_

Disclaimer: No.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four: The Echoes of an Empty Soul<strong>

Once upon a time, there lived a girl gifted with beauty, intelligence, charisma and a strong sense of morality. She was a princess among paupers. A diamond among ashes. The perfect specimen of a human.

Once upon a time, that girl learned that even diamonds have their cracks.

Once upon a time, that girl's parents left and never returned; in their stead, she found complete strangers. And those strangers would continue to haunt her house like ghosts for they always seemed out of reach.

Once upon a time, that girl began to doubt herself. The cracks were growing, hardening. She began to fear that she wasn't the only one who saw them.

Once upon a time, that girl realized her kingdom was decaying. That, essentially, her subjects were becoming barbaric like lowly animals.

Once upon a time, that girl found her prince in the body of a god.

Once upon a time, that girl struck a deal. A deal that would surely benefit humanity for generations to come. One that would ensure the endurance of justice and righteousness.

Once upon a time, that girl realized that happily ever after was complete and utter **bullshit.**

* * *

><p>Wynter was a careful driver. She wasn't like Hilda, whose mountain of traffic tickets would probably rival Mount Everest itself. Nor was she the sluggish driver that her mother was. No, Wynter's driving skills were a complete replica of her father's.<p>

She followed every rule, every law to the ink.

She was cautious. She was patient. And she was never, ever reckless.

That would explain why, even in this dire situation, she waited for all the lights to turn their appropriate colors and for that dinosaur to cross the street.

She slammed the car door, not caring whether Mello would give her hell about it later. Wynter looked at the cemetery gates covered in immaculate ivy; the place looked like the fucking Ritz for corpses.

She had always believed that Hilda would have chosen cremation rather than the traditional grave. Wynter suddenly realized that she was in a maze of tombstones since she had no idea who to contact for recent burials. She spent the next forty-five minutes aimlessly wandering the grounds looking for signs of life.

Wynter spotted a small group at the corner of her eye: a fellow dressed entirely in black and an elderly woman with a black veil shielding her face from reality. It seemed as though they had just finished the funeral, and Wynter found herself sprinting over on wobbly legs.

"Um, excuse me but. . ."

It was then that her eyes caught the letters.

**Hilda Walcott.**

The woman looked up seemingly startled by Wynter's sudden appearance.

"My apologies for your loss." She was one of those people that would attend funerals to make them official, to ensure that whoever was buried was actually dead and seen off to the next step.

The man in black had been priest, a young one that didn't look a day beyond thirty. He began to mutter another prayer as though to signal the heavens that the funeral was officially over.

The woman quietly walked over to Wynter who had still been nailed to her spot staring at the tombstone. "They found this on her, and it was addressed to a Wynner?"

Wynter suddenly released a mirthless laugh at her mistake, "Wynter."

"Excuse me?" The woman's eyes opened in disbelief.

"The old hag wrote it to me. Wynter." The woman quietly placed the paper in Wynter's fist and awkwardly patted it as though she wished to relay her sympathy.

The world was broken.

Her eyes were broken. Shattered.

This. This wasn't happening.

This didn't happen.

She wasn't actually standing there in a cemetery.

This couldn't be real.

Because for once, she didn't see Natalia.

She couldn't see her anywhere.

She hadn't seen her since she woke up.

This wasn't real.

This was not real.

This. Was. Not. Real.

And she kept laughing until the world painted itself black.

* * *

><p>"Hello again."<p>

That voice, that voice was thrashing her insides with every letter. Her guts were quivering in fear because she _knew _that voice. But hadn't she decided that that this wasn't real?

Then why did she feel so scared?

The person who possessed the voice ripped off the bag that was covering her face. Her eyes took their time adjusting to the light and soon found herself staring into bright red irises.

_Shit. Looks like everyone up got it out for me._

Of course she couldn't be kidnapped by a _normal _ psycho.

She had to be kidnapped by _the _psycho.

As in, Kira, the maniac that killed L.

She swore she could hear Grandma Wynter laughing her ass off in the afterlife.

She'd have to actually make the decision now, didn't she? She couldn't just opt out like she had been doing all her life.

To be honest, Wynter was terrified at making decisions. She had been so used to having others decide things for her. In fact, her entire fucking fate had been decided already. All that was left was the choice.

Kira or L?

* * *

><p>He lied. <em>Again.<em>

Kira had said that innocents wouldn't be involved. That only criminals would be executed. Only the sinners would be killed.

This woman couldn't have done anything. Lea's gut told her that as she walked into the room and found a whimpering figure tied to a chair. The woman's face was covered by a bag. Lea was glad for the obstruction; she didn't want to look at the face that was behind that bag.

She didn't want to see that face. She didn't want to hear the voice screaming inside. Screaming that things had gone too far. That she had made the wrong decision and that she needed to end it.

Lea heard a faint gasp behind her followed by rapid Spanish.

"Calm your shit woman, I was just following orders." Lea could hear Donovan's husky voice echoing in the other room, effectively silencing Jenna's hysteric shouts.

"Is she awake?" His voice felt like pins prickling into her skin. Lea felt her own heart stop in fear.

"Don't do that, Daniel." She quietly murmured.

"Sorry, I guess it's just a habit." Lea could see his feral grin in her mind's eye.

"Who is she?" Her voice was faint, barely hanging by a thread.

"The key to our success." Came his confident reply.

* * *

><p>He was ready.<p>

The knife was ready.

His hand was ready.

His mind was ready.

He took one last look at his goddess.

But from the corner of his eye, he noticed the wench.

His eyes shot her a look.

Hers replied with a blink.

He was ready to give his life.

He just hoped that his life would be the only one taken.

He could handle being a martyr.

But he would not watch someone else die before him.

That was why he had plan B.

Or rather, plan L.

Donovan felt himself smirk.

Even gods made mistakes.

* * *

><p>"So, how do you feel?" Wynter's lip quirked at his question. <em>The fucking hell. . .<em>

"Fucking fantastic. You?" Her voice sounded a lot more nonchalant than how she felt.

"I'm feeling rather well, thank you." Kira smiled in amusement.

For a while, they merely stared at each other. Eyes to eyes. Human to god.

"How about a deal? If you disclose L's location, I guarantee your life."

Wynter's eyes glazed over the three people behind him. Two women and another man.

_Astraea._

"Kira!" A woman's voice shrieked out in alarm.

Kira had turned so fast it was as though he had vanished.

But all she could think about was L.

* * *

><p>It had happened so fast. The knife, the hand, and the throat.<p>

Jenna was still in shock even if she knew that this was all staged. That Donovan wasn't actually going to hurt Lea. That he was just _acting_.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Donovan had never enclosed the full details to her but knowing Donovan she should have realized it would be something drastic.

She was frozen when Daniel appeared. His eyes lit with crimson and a frown.

Donovan lunged towards him as he swung wildly with the knife.

Daniel was moving too fast. Even faster than Donovan. His hands were a blur as they moved across the page and ink bled through paper.

** Why had Lea called out Kira?** Jenna's voice echoed quietly.

The effect seemed almost immediate. Donovan's chest tightened horribly and his grip on Lea faded instantaneously. His body crumbled to the ground.

40.

_Donovan!_

39.

She found herself rushing towards his side.

38.

She wasn't Jenna.

37.

She wasn't Juanita.

36.

She wasn't.

35.

He wasn't Donovan.

34.

Lea wasn't god.

33.

Daniel wasn't god.

32.

Nothing was real.

31.

Everything was a blur.

30.

The voices. The lights.

29.

She cradled his head on her lap.

28.

The light in his eyes was fading.

27.

Fading.

26.

_I'm sorry, mama._

25.

_I'm so, so sorry._

24.

_We were the same._

23.

_I'm sorry, Lea._

22.

His breathing was almost nonexistent.

21.

Her hand shook as she combed his hair.

20.

Her tears fell quickly.

19.

_Will you ever forgive me?_

18.

His mouth curved and began to make a sound.

17.

Her breath hitched.

16.

He couldn't leave her alone!

15.

She didn't want to be alone.

14.

_Take me with you._

13.

_Take me with you!_

12.

_Don't leave me alone._

11.

_Please. . ._

10.

_Mamá._

09.

_Is this what dying feels like?_

08.

_Looking on as your loved ones are ripped from your hands?_

07.

His lip quivered.

06.

She wanted.

05.

"…"

04.

"…"

03.

"…"

02.

"..."

01.

"Lea."

00.

Even in his last moments, he was still thinking about her.

Jenna's head turned to look at Lea, who was buried in Daniel's arms.

Even in his last moments, she still didn't care.

Lea didn't care.

She didn't.

But Juanita did.

And Jenna did too.

Her eyes caught onto the knife lying near her. Donovan had dropped it as he fell.

She would fix this.

She would _make_ Lea care.

She would make the gods cry.

She would kill a god.

Her mind was blank as her body lurched. As her hand acted on its own accord and for once, her mind was empty.

Empty of the voices.

And then, her heart was light.

She felt so free.

Oh, so, light.

_ Te amo._

* * *

><p>Why? Why had Donovan tried to?<p>

Why had Jenna tried to?

Why? Lea shook uncontrollably.

She didn't want this anymore. She never wanted this to happen. She didn't want people dying anymore. She didn't want to be the cause of anymore deaths. She didn't want to be a god anymore.

She didn't want to be Kira's goddess. She just wanted to be Lea.

She just wanted her parents back.

She wanted her friends back.

She wanted this to stop.

Lea watched as Kira towered over the two fresh corpses.

"Do you see now, Lea?" His voice echoed.

"Even some of those who reach towards the light can harbor evil. That is why it is exigent that we trust each other. That you never lose faith." His smile. His eyes.

She wanted this to stop.

She wanted this to stop.

She wanted this to stop.

His back was turned, "Now let's go. There are other matters to attend to."

The knife seemed to glint at her. It seemed to mock her.

_He lied, didn't he? Since when did you become the kind to stand by as your friends died? Didn't you promise no more funerals with strangers? Didn't you promise not to die alone? Don't you want this end?_

Her fingers curled against the metal.

She didn't care if it was impossible to kill a god.

She didn't care if she succeeded.

She just wanted it to end.

She wanted the killing to stop.

She wanted to bring a god to his knees.

* * *

><p>"Now, what is your choice?" Lea wasn't quite sure what was going on. She didn't know who this woman was or how much she knew. But the fear etched on her face was evidence enough.<p>

Kira was going to kill this woman too. Just like he had slaughtered Jenna and Donovan. He would kill anyone that stood in the way of his perfect world.

The woman glanced at Lea.

"I . . ."

"Oh, what does it matter anyways? Even if you do refuse, I'll just extract the information out of you." His heinous laughter made Lea tighten her grip on the knife.

"I. . ." The woman's voice began but Lea didn't let her finish. She raised the knife high above her head and brought it down upon Kira's back.

Instead of blood or the sound of flesh cutting, Lea felt a painful clench on her wrist as her spine collided with the wall.

"Even you, Lea? I'm disappointed." His voice was steady.

"You're a monster." The last of her resolve spat.

He shook his head, "And I thought I had finally found my goddess. You probably had more potential than Takada."

"Monster." Her voice whispered.

"Did you really think that this pathetic weapon could injury me? You forget my dear, that I am a _god_."

Lea felt the cold steel puncture her tissue and rip her insides.

"Did you really think that you had a chance?"

The blood poured out of her. And her vision began to haze.

"Monster." Her voice was but an echo as her vision gave way to emptiness.

* * *

><p>Kira looked unconcerned as his charge slumped over. In the back of his head, he felt something. Something that told him he had broken a rule.<p>

He snorted, as if the King of Death could possibly kill _him_.

He was moments away from becoming the god of two realms.

He was untouchable.

He was untouch. . .

He felt brilliant, violet flames on his skin.

Light Yagami had forgotten one crucial thing.

Even the gods were not completely invincible.

* * *

><p>It was Mello, who came to her rescue. Wynter was so far gone that she didn't even bicker with him. Nor comment on the fact that he was wearing snake-skinned boots. She was just thankful that Mello didn't bother her.<p>

She was splattered with blood, sleep deprived and weary. Wynter wasn't quite sure what to feel anymore. She just felt so heavy.

All Wynter wanted was to fall asleep and when she woke up she wouldn't remember anything. She didn't even want to remember her name.

She had just seen three people murdered.

She had just seen the death of a god.

Her mouth thirsted for vodka.

* * *

><p>Wynter didn't see L after that. Mello had taken her back home to her apartment in Utah. She had lost track of the days and divided her time sleeping and drinking.<p>

And writing.

She couldn't stop. She didn't have anybody to confide in anymore. So Wynter poured her soul into words and onto paper.

She also spent her time thinking. She had long decided what she would do should she ever see Ryuuzaki again. Wynter had seen first-hand at the power of regret; it had twisted her grandmother into demon.

"Honey, you okay?" Wynter glanced at her boss Martha. Even after all this time, her boss had given back her job. She had explained that her Great-Aunt had recently died and she was going through a tough time; Wynter was thankful that her employer was a sympathetic woman.

"Yeah, I was just thinking." Wynter replied slowly.

"Alright then, think you can man the counter for a while? I have to go to the bank." Her boss chimed as she exited the café.

Wynter didn't look up as she heard the chime of bells.

"Ms. Wynter?"

_Maybe fate decided her life._

"Ryuuzaki?" There he stood in all his crouching glory. Just like the day they first met.

_Maybe she had no control over death._

"Ryuuzaki!" She lunged over the counter and yanked on his collar.

_Maybe this wasn't the universe where she had her sisters and her parents loved her._

_ Maybe this wasn't the universe where Great-Aunt Hilda was still alive._

_ Maybe this wasn't the universe where she was how her father wanted her._

He made no sound as she smashed her lips to his.

_ But maybe there was a chance that this was the uni__verse in which she had no regrets._

He didn't taste bitter like she had always thought.

He tasted sweet like the cake he ate.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

** [inserts an excuse about computer dying and an apology for the long delay/choppy transitions/lack of editing/rushed ending here]**

_**Te amo. – I love you.**_

**The **_fucking_** end.**

** Thank you.**


	25. Interlude

**I can't breathe,**

**in and out,**

**like I need to.**

**OneRepublic: _Goodbye, Apathy_**

**Disclaimer: _Nope_.**

**A/N: This is by no means a sequel but simply another scene meant to salvage the monstrosity of an ending I had created earlier. The transitions are really shitty, I know. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.**

* * *

><p><strong>INTERLUDE<strong>

"Mommy!" That's right, she's a mother now.

"Mommy!" The child's voice becomes more and more distressed. Ashley looks up from her phone to gaze upon her son, whose face is flushed pink and the evidence of his tears is smeared over his face.

"What is it, Sweetie?" She tries to sound as warm as possible but she couldn't. Not today. Today she isn't a mother, not a wife, not anything.

Today is the anniversary of the end.

"Jacob's being mean! He won't let me play with him." Normally, she would smile and wipe away his tears but today she doesn't have the strength to be an adult, it's her day of grieving.

"Jacob just needs some time alone right now. Just leave him be and ask him later, does that sound good Cole?" Her voice cracks.

"Okay," A grin breaks onto his face and he wipes away the splotchy tears from his face with his sleeve. Despite her melancholy, Ashley feels proud of her son for understanding. She's proud of everything that she has.

She suddenly tugs him closer and squeezes him into a hug.

"Can you tell Jacob that I'll be back? Mommy's going to go out for a little bit."

"Sure!" Cole salutes childishly as he scrambles to go tell his older brother.

Her throat is filled with raw emotion and she rushes to the car. She taps her finger in impatience as she tries to will the feelings away.

Today is the day Ashley chooses to run _**towards**_ her problems. Her therapists had told her that her feelings of survivor's guilt weren't her fault but she knows otherwise. Maybe if she was there, she could have stopped Donovan. Maybe she shouldn't have been so apathetic. Maybe she could have prevented this.

Her therapists don't know that she had known all along. She had seen Lea get kidnapped by him but simply stood by and _**watched!**_

If only she had paid closer attention. If only she…

Her expensive car slams to a halt since she finally arrived at the cemetery. She checks her appearance in the mirror and notes her running mascara. For once, Ashley cares. She cares that she looks and feels like shit. She cares about everything. And it hurts so badly.

She wants to scream like a little kid but instead she walks out as calmly as she possibly could.

Ashley spits on Donovan's grave. She remembers how she felt when they told her what happened. She remembers the newspaper reporter and the interrogation from the police. No one wanted to believe what had happened. They didn't want to believe that three kids could die so horribly.

She remembers the way Donovan's mom's face changed when Ashley finally stated that Donovan had been the cause. That everything was his fault and everyone seemed to believe her.

Donovan was always a few apples short of a pie, after all. It was easy to think that he was a cult leader that seduced two innocent, teenaged girls to commit suicide. It was much easier believing that lie than the possibility of a serial killer.

But nobody remembers Daniel except Ashley. Ashley had searched high and low for him but to no avail. It was almost as if Daniel had never existed to begin with. But that was just stupid, right?

He had to be real. He had to be.

She couldn't have just imagined him, could she? He wasn't the manifestation of Lea's desires and dreams, was he?

She remembers asking everyone if they knew where Daniel was and the way their faces would scrunch into confusion before looking at her in pity.

They thought she had been cracking because of reality.

They didn't understand that fantasy was so much worse. No one understood how scared she was of her own thoughts.

* * *

><p>Matt lights a cigarette as he waited in the car. From the distress response that Donovan had sent, Matt had no idea what to expect. They were supposedly dealing with "supernatural entities". Matt had never really had any reason to be religious but he recently bought a rosary, much to Mello's amusement. If Gods of Death were real and tangible, why couldn't He also be real?<p>

It certainly couldn't hurt his chances any.

He wonders what this Donovan is like. They had been sending messages from the very beginning. L had been the one to convince Donovan to kidnap Lea knowing it would lead him to Kira. Donovan had been their double agent, so to speak.

Matt knows there is good reason to believe that Donovan was already dead. After hearing L's description of the God of Death, Matt feels as if they were facing the devil incarnate. Something that would make Hitler shit his pants and run.

Matt takes a drag as he leans against the car seat. Mello sure was taking his sweet time.

Matt fingers the beads. Maybe he should pray.

Pray that he'll make this out in one piece.

He knows Mello probably would have laughed but he prayed for him too.

Matt would have never admitted it to anyone, but he's scared. Probably more scared than he's ever been in his pathetic life.

The beads feel cold and lifeless in his hands.

Or maybe he's the one that's cold and lifeless.

* * *

><p>Mello isn't squeamish but the smell of freshly dead corpses is enough to make him crave chocolate. He rolls his eyes when he notices that the front door is unlocked.<p>

_**Idiots.**_

He knows he's being reckless and stupid but he strolls on through. Mostly because he doesn't hear anything, there's no sign of life. When he walks through the massive foyer, he almost chokes on the smell but he ignores it. This isn't the first time that he smelled death before and it probably wouldn't be the last.

His gun is cocked, and he's a deadly shot.

The first thing he notices is that there's ash covering the floor of the room. He would have mistaken if for sand if not for the faint smell of fire.

There's a teen on the ground, with blood pooled around her like a massive puddle. Her skin is pale, too pale. She has this small smile that almost looks smug. Mello knows that she's Lea. The other two bodies are huddled next to each other, one on top of the other. Donovan's obviously on the bottom and the girl on top is probably Juanita.

The last thing that he notices is Wynter. She's tied to a chair with an empty look in her eyes. There are spots of blood on her, but Mello's pretty sure that it isn't hers. He waves a hand in front of her face and frowns when he receives no response.

She's practically as dead as the corpses.

So he does what he thinks he has to and slaps sense back into her.

It works and the light returns to her eyes. She gives him a wary look and things are silent as he unties her and forces her to the exit.

Mello notices a notebook on the ground. It's drenched in blood but the pages are still intact.

After Wynter's in the car, Mello burns the evidence. He soaks the room in gasoline and uses Matt's lighter to light the flames.

His spine tingles as he watches the sparks and his hands are clutching the blood-soaked notebook.

He chooses not to show Matt the notebook. He tells Matt that he burned it. His friend takes his lie easily and doesn't ask further. Mello doesn't want Matt to know and he's pretty sure that Matt knows he's lying but he's glad that Mello cares.

He forces Matt to drive to back to the headquarters. There's L standing with nothing on his face. And the shit's still on the ground like the trash he is.

He throws the notebook at L's face. Even though Mello agreed to work with L, he still hates the guy. He hates him for reappearing and taking him back into this life of detective work. He hates him for reminding him of how things could have turned out if this world's L hadn't died.

He despises how it reminds him that L would probably still have picked Near over him. He feels satisfaction when he sees the blood splatter onto L's white shirt.

He feels good when he slams the car door and tells Matt that they need to get the hell out of here.

It's because of Matt that they go back to Utah and dump Wynter off. Matt was always the good one, after all.

They go back to being Mafia lords and all is well.

But sometimes he wonders what L did with the notebook. Maybe Mello should have kept it for himself. Maybe he should have used it to kill Near.

He suddenly growls at his sudden weakness. There was no way in hell that he'd take the easy way. If he was going to kill Near, he would have done it by his own hand and not with some shitty paranormal notebook. He wasn't a coward.

He still wonders if L would have ever used it.

Mello's smart as fuck and he's got one thing over Near. He can read people, he knows why people do the things they do. But even as socially savvy Mello is, even he can't read L.

Nobody can.

* * *

><p>Ashley doesn't really remember the funeral. She isn't sure if it's because she doesn't want to or if she just honestly forgot. They chose to bury the bodies all on the same day so that the bereaved could grieve together. The funeral was closed casket on account of the scorched corpses.<p>

She does know that they buried Donovan next to Lea, and she thought it was kind of ironic. Even in death, Donovan was stalking Lea.

She knows that she didn't really start crying until they buried Jenna. Of all the people who didn't deserve to die, it was probably Jenna. Jenna probably had nothing to do with anything; she was just there at the wrong place at the wrong time. At least, that's what Ashley hoped.

It was hard watching Jenna's mom cry. Her tears were sincere unlike the polite tears Lea's mom had let out. Jenna's mom wailed at the fact her little princess was gone.

Jenna's mom had been the one to hug Ashley when her own mother didn't. Ashley remembers crying on the woman's shoulder as they cried together.

**Mi corazón llora por el dolor.**

**My heart cries from the pain.**

* * *

><p>"Ryuuzaki, are you okay?" L briefly glances at her before sipping his tea. They're both at the café, and it's her break time.<p>

"Of course," He almost feels bad for lying but he knows it's necessary. He doesn't want to tell her that it's time for him to go. That the bet's over and he won. That he can't stay. His time is running out and he should probably tell her. He doesn't belong here. He's supposed to be dead. He can feel it deep inside him.

It's been like this since he chose to come back to her. He wishes he didn't. He wishes that he had been stronger and less human.

It was so much harder dying the second time.

She frowns at his response but doesn't say anything. "Do you want more cake?"

He nods and watches her walk away. She returns quickly with a generous slice and he licks his lips. She carefully places the plate in front of him and he doesn't hesitate.

He watches her roll her eyes as he scarfs down the cake. There's this smile on her face and she looks so content.

He wants her to stay that way.

And it's the first time in a while that he feels content too.

And he wants things to stay that way.

Even if it's brief like he knows it is.

He wants to be selfish, for a little while longer.


End file.
